Sisters Afield, Book 1 Findings: A Tale of the Fourth Age
by ZelieHorse1
Summary: About 80 years after the War of the Ring a band of heroes and heroines set out in search of something precious to them but find something much more sinister. Please read and review. Comments on continuity are appreciated.
1. Chapter 1: A Knight of Dale goes Missing

In the space between the unexpected and a leap of faith lies insight. Whenever things are not quite what they appear is when intuition and wisdom, not intelligence are the best guides.

 **Chapter 1: A Knight of Dale goes Missing**

"Sister, try this;" said the young man, as he spurred his horse away from the little ring, hung from the tree. It was the third one in a rough line along the edge of the glade. It had been several days of trial and coaching, with long hours in the saddle each day. Riding up to his teenage sister, he saw the smile in her eyes shift to focus as she tensed, waiting for the command to begin. He cantered out a short distance to find one of the better spots where he could observe her performance.

"Ready..." He watched her lean over the saddle, whispering to her horse, with one hand on the long pole, the other on the reins of her horse.

"Set..." She lowered the pole, and balanced it in her arm.

"Go!" Her elbows lifted as she spurred her horse into motion. It quickly broke into a gallop. As she tucked the pole under her arm, he watched the pole reach out in front of the horse's nose. He watched the careful control of the tip as horse and rider rose and fell as the horse leveled into a steady run.

"One!" He called out calmly as the first ring leaped up the pole almost to her hand. "Steady... Keep the point down..." He spoke quietly to himself and to his horse. His horse just twitched his ears. Her horse carried her down a dip in the ground, and then back up as she made a gentle turn to line up on the second ring.

"Two!" He called out a bit louder as the second, smaller ring caught on the tip. He watched as the horse tripped, taking an extra step. The point of the lance bounced sending the second ring off the pole. He saw her turn the horse toward the third ring and lean forward into the running horse, who sped up into a steady gallop. The steady thud of the hooves blurred as he focused on the rider closing in on the little wooden ring. "Yes... Yes..." The tip leveled again, and aimed for the third and smallest ring, the last one he'd hung up. "Yes... YES!" He yelled out as the third ring was caught by the tip of the pole. As she slowed her horse and turned toward him, it was only then that he noticed that her braid had broken free, and as she lifted up the pole in triumph, her golden hair streamed free behind her, her face glowing with accomplishment. As she held up her pole, the third ring barely slid down.

He spurred his horse into motion, quickly leaping into a canter toward his sister, who slowed to a stop next to him. With a beaming smile across her face, red with exertion and the pole held high, hair unkempt, now touching the back of her horse behind her. His arms reached out to her, as they slowed. As they pull up their horses, they pulled up briefly, leaned into each other, and hugged.

"Ancalime, do you know how long it took _me_ to do that? Aearion had me at it for weeks!" They both broke out in chuckles, and she shrugged her shoulders and blushed a bit. But her horse snorted steam in the cool morning air, and he could see her face was flushed; her chest still heaving from the hard work. But he could not ignore the genuine smile of joy. She seemed the most beautiful creature in the world when she wore that smile, and it is what kept him coming back to these fun escapades in the fields. Mother approved, as did his 'Aunts', but Father did not; if he was aware that his daughter was probably as good a knight as many in the kingdom, he would quickly put a stop to their fun.

She smiled and handed him the pole and rings. As she caught her breath, she started her horse into a cool-down, muttering words of praise and stroking its mane. They rode over to pick up the ring she had dropped. When her breath finally came back to her, she was again his bubbling teenage sister. "I can't wait to tell Mother!" And "Drota will want to hear about this!" and "What do you think Aunt will say?" These and other words poured out of her mouth - including questions he was never given time to answer. He didn't mind, as it was a joy to see her really happy. He also didn't tell her that most knights couldn't do this with rings twice the size he'd used. He kept in mind to tell Aunt Calådhiel the next time he saw her. She would definitely appreciate how well his little sister had done. And Aunt Gothweniel would probably love the stories of her laughter.

Three weeks later, Aldarion had this memory of his little sister jarred as he watched her being presented in public for the first time. All of the young persons from the leading families of Dale were present. As Ancalime Vandemere stepped out onto the dance floor, she was presented to Prince Bard. Heads turned and whispers moved around the large room.

The room was filled with richly dressed men and women in their hats and beautifully embroidered clothes. But her dress, poise and carriage were striking, even among the most beautiful, rich and powerful of Dale's society. Her complexly braided hair, intertwined with jewels and flowers, gave out an appearance that was perfect, and the pride in their father's face was evident. To all she appeared as a beautiful, proud princess, daughter of Lord Eldecar Vandemere, Elector of Dale.

To most of those present, and even to the Princess Gironne herself, Ancalime appeared a vision of the past, the namesake of her great-great-grandmother, an untouchable heroine sung into the bards' verses from the War of the Ring. Aldarion could not help but notice the dark jealous glances, particularly among the women, old and young there present. He couldn't tell, but he hoped that Princess Gironne was not among them. He also noticed the exactly polite, quiet and almost royal phrases Ancalime used, with all emotion hidden.

But the memory of the ruddy, joy-filled young woman on a steaming horse with her long hair streaming wild could not seem more starkly in contrast with the image of the perfect, proud woman in front of him. The fact that they were the same person was almost too incongruous for him to fathom. While he heard her proper tone and perfect pronunciation echo across the room, his memory swirled about the gentle and heartfelt words of praise she gave her horse after her victory over the wooden rings. While the contrast sank into his consciousness, in the back of his mind, he realized that his understanding of women was yet again challenged. He suspected it would not be the last time.

Aldarion was shaken from his musings by his friend Jankin. "You should be proud, Aldarion. Your sister is quite the decoration. Look around at the envy she draws from the other wallflowers."

He made a face, trying to think of what to say. Ancalime was anything but a wallflower. Not finding the right words, he just raised his hand, mimicking a shove, "Go away. Find someone else to dance with."

In his fathers' jewel smith workshop, Aaron placed the two wrapped boxes in his shoulder satchel: A larger box with almost two years of careful planning and work, and a smaller box delivered with his instructions.

The larger box held work he had been preparing for months, made of jewels recently taken from the depths of Erebor. The large green stones were cut and set to match those of Smaug's hoard taken from the King of Dale at its overthrow. One of the smaller stones was actually from that set, and the rest were gifts of Thorin III Stonehelm, King-under-the-mountain and his work. The original stone, and the setting in silver and gold was gifted by the aging Brand II, King of Dale. While neither Thranduil nor the aged Stonehelm were to be present at the public 30-year celebration, Gloin, Bard and Beninion of the Greenwood were also anticipated. But the gift was for Thranduil , and King Brand desired that he would receive it on the day of celebration. Consequently, it was packed in a beautifully-carved box lined in silk brocade.

Aaron himself had led the work, personally having designed and labored over the setting for most of these past two years. For the past two months, he'd worked on it almost exclusively. All of this had been arranged through the two kings' sons, Gloin II, and the heir-apparent Bard III of Dale. This creation was to be a gift from Dale & Erebor, in honor of both the discovery of the rare green stones and the 30-year celebration that would be held in just a few weeks. Aaron was immensely proud of the work. Both King Stonehelm and King Brand were very pleased, and had included personal notes with their seals in the ornately carved box now in the bag about his shoulder.

Prince Bard's servant had given clear instructions that as the craftsman, he himself was to have the honor of presenting it to King Thranduil . Aaron had expected a heavy escort for such a gift, but his instructions told that secrecy was desired, as Bard wanted the presentation of their gift, now in preparation for almost two years, to be a surprise. The instructions clearly said that the much smaller box was also to be presented - A small token from the mountain from the old days. They should travel light and fast, and to take only a few companions. Aaron thought to himself that this should not be a very great risk, as these were times of peace.

To this end, Aaron's friend, Adan of the Greenwood agreed to be his escort. Adan and he were quite the opposites: He towered over his 5'9 friend by the better part of a foot, and his friend could ride and shoot circles around him. And talk his ear off. Adan was the youngest son of Alyan, a veteran of The War, and head of the elven trading guild. His successful investments had made him exceedingly rich, and earned him a well-respected name throughout Dale and the region around Laketown. His son was equally good: as a judge of character, in his skill at trade, and in his generosity. He and his sister Lona were also long-time friends of his own family. They were remarkably tall for elves; but in the house of Mark the Master Jewel smith of Dale, they were all short, and seemed to enjoy having a space where they were welcome and yet went unnoticed for their height. His father Mark had asked him to lead the escort, and they took three armed men with them.

They rode out of Dale unnoticed, and made good time heading for the Woodland river that flowed into the lake south of Dale. It was on the eve of their second night traveling toward the Greenwood that they made their second bivouac. That evening as he was preparing a meal, that Adan gave a call that indicated someone was approaching.

"Hail the camp!" he heard called out in a feminine voice. And he found an older, but not old woman walking toward their camp. She was well-fed, and spoke with one of the accents of the country people that inhabited the sparsely-populated regions north and west of Dale. She led a burro with a pack saddle. Adan quietly followed.

"What brings you this far south at this time of year, Mother?" He asked.

"The great celebration of King Brand, of course. This should be one of the greatest free markets in years." She patted her burro. "And feasts!" She paused, "aren't you headed that way?"

Aaron replied with a half-truth, "Yes mother, soon enough."

"Those are good horses." She noted, and then turned and spotted Adan standing behind her leaning on his bow. "Oh - let me introduce myself. I am Dwimmerlein." Looking up at the tall and taller men she added, "Who might you two be?" Their other companions were seeing to the horses.

"I am Aaron, and this is Adan." He said simply. Although Adan had more experience, he'd been coached that in the wilds, long introductions were neither necessary nor expected. Extending the hospitality expected, he replied "Would you care for some food? You are welcome to join us." The meal was small, and she responded with the rough grace normal to these parts. Adan appeared a bit ill-at-ease, but said nothing. At some point, she returned her bowl to Adan, and thanked them both for the meal.

While he took the bowl with both hands, she reached out and touched him with something and he gave a brief cry of fright and dropped to the ground like a stone. Aaron started to run, and reached into his bag to throw the contents into the darkness, but quick as a cat Dwimmerlein jabbed his leg with what felt like a stick. "You won't get away that easy," she said. His head exploded in a scream that made his mind dim, and he tripped, gripped in a terror so dark that he could not understand much of anything for a few moments. His own hands involuntarily flailed, and as his hand came out, it half tore the bag from him as he fell, or rather bounced off the ground. Standing over him with his bag in her hands, "I have it!" He thought he heard her say as all went black, blacker than the starless night in the wilds. "And I have you. We'll see if you are all she said you were."

When he awoke, it was bright daylight. His mouth was gagged, hands were tied painfully tight, with a stick behind his elbows. Adan was disarmed and trussed in the same way. "I don't care! Keep looking! It must be here!" Dwimmerlein, or whatever her name really was, was ordering someone. There was lots of motion in the bushes and the nearby tall grass, but he couldn't see what from. She clearly held his precious bag, and the larger box appeared to be in it, given the shape. Apparently, the smaller box had been tossed out when he fell. He couldn't remember actually throwing it, though. His mind went back to Prince Bard's servant who had given him the instructions, sealed with his signet. How could this have happened? Why was he still alive? None of this made any sense. She continued giving orders, but in a language he did not understand. Adan apparently did, as his face shifted to anger as he heard it.

Sometime after noon, a man of average height came over and helped him to his feet. He removed the stick so he could relieve himself, and fed him some food and water. "You'll need this." He then replaced the stick, and tied a rope around his neck, and secured the other end to a horse. He then repeated the process with Adan, very careful to keep a close watch on him. The man went back to the search, and they were left for some time, with the horses munching at the nearby grass. They both sat down and waited. The deep fear of the night still stirred, and he felt ashamed of himself. He could see the same look on Adan's face. Adan had been so proud to be the one to present the beautifully worked green necklace to his King, and now there was nothing but shame and failure. But the fear was deeper, and darker than that. And the fate of their three companions was unknown.

Evening came. The woman walked over to them, but something struck him odd about her looks, as if she were somehow different, older, fiercer than when he had met her at night. Her hair was more white-grey than he remembered. She pulled out a stick, which she held like a dagger. Seeing the bitter look on Adan's face, she jabbed him in the chest, which he could do nothing to prevent. She held it there several moments, as a look of complete and hopeless terror gripped him. He tensed completely, and held his eyes shut fast. "Kneel!" She commanded. And though he fought it, moments later, he dropped to his knees. Tears started from his eyes as she held the stick to his chest, his face contorted in pain. She waited for what seemed an eternity. Eventually she looked at Aaron, "Shall I let him go?"

"Yes" he nodded.

"Then you will cooperate?" She asked, still holding Adan on his knees. The manservant loosened his gag.

"YES." He choked out. She pulled back the stick, returning it to a sheath. Adan slumped to the ground, rolling on to his side, choking back tears, and rasping with each breath. All of this apparently went unnoticed. "Good. Tell me, did you bring two boxes with you, or just the one?"

"There were two." Aaron replied honestly.

"Feed them." She commanded, and left. The manservant repeated the procedure from the noontime, repeating the process. He mentioned to Aaron, "I hope you're the tall one we were looking for. Otherwise, you'll both wish you were dead long before you will be." The cramps in his arms and shoulders made it nearly impossible to sleep. It took quite a while before Adan could eat. He could observe that periodically he broke into a sweat and shivered, as if he were still in pain. He did notice their three escorts similarly trussed up some forty yards away.

Then the man left them tied as before. Later, as the light was fading, Adan smelled something, and gave Aaron a look of confusion and anger that he'd never seen before. He mumbled a question in Sindarin through his gag that he couldn't understand. Later, he caught a glimpse of something he thought was a bear, but walked like a wolf. They were big, some perhaps 300 pounds and possibly more. He finally drifted to sleep hearing what sounded like cursing in a language he didn't know. For reasons he couldn't quire place, it was the most pleasant sound he had heard all day.

The next day, they were all tied and mounted on their horses, giant bear-wolves. These 'wargs' he heard they were called, chased their five horses, herding them north at a killing pace. All five riders were exhausted when they finally stopped. The horses were able drink and eat what little grass there was in places where they stopped, but the men were given little time to rest. After a second day of this, and their strength waning, they were given some food and water. Later they got the idea to use their teeth to tear small bits of cloth and leave them when they stopped. It seemed a forlorn hope, but doing anything seemed better than nothing.

Aldarion Vandemere walked up the steep hill to the Prince's Chalet near the King's residence. To get there he passed through the old South Gate and up the hill that was the Old Town of the city. Accompanied by his mentor and best friend, he wondered why he was suddenly called to a private audience with the Prince.

"Your Highnesses," he started, when he noticed that not only was Prince Bard, son of Brand present, his daughter Gironne was seated next to him.

The prince looked very serious, nodded in acknowledgment, and addressed them. "This favor I am to ask of you two will come best from a woman." Aldarion smiled slightly, but wondered what was about to happen.

His daughter Gironne began, "Undoubtedly you know of the green stone that was found in the mountain last year. King Stonehelm and my grandfather agreed that this would make a beautiful gift for our ally and friend Thranduil Elvenking on the occasion of my grandfather's 30th anniversary. Stonehelm suggested that they have the best of their craftsmen fashion a copy of Dale's royal jewels that Thranduil apparently admired in the Dragon's hoard after the Battle of Five Armies."

"Well, such a necklace was made under the supervision of both kings, and this mighty gift was sent to Thranduil to be delivered to him to the Greenwood. The men leading the work, Adan son of Alyan and Aaron son of Mark were to present this gift as a surprise. However, their instructions went awry, and they left two nights ago without the escort father intended." She paused to look at her father, as if wondering how much she should share. The Prince nodded back to her.

The two warriors looked at each other. Aearion nodded to Aldarion, who then replied.

"My Lady, My Prince, why do you tell us this tale? It is usually a four-day ride to the Elvenking if not in great haste. This implies that you have at minimum a spy within these walls, and perhaps worse."

Gironne glanced back at her father, giving him the "I-told-you-so" look. He just nodded for her to continue. "What you suggest is our conclusion as well. Given what we have uncovered, we believe that their instructions were intercepted and probably forged. We fear they have run into a trap; That someone has been working to steal these jewels, if they have not already. While they left only two nights ago, we fear for their safety."

Aldarion looked to his older companion, and turning to his two royal hosts replied. "I see."

"Sir knights. We are in need of skilled, trustworthy and especially discrete men to protect, if not avenge the loss of these jewels, but most particularly the men charged with their safe delivery to the Elvenking. They left two nights ago; two days ago we discovered their early departure, and today we discovered the reason for their misdirection. Now all haste and discretion are needed if we are to ensure their safety, if it is not too late. You are already two days behind them."

Reading into what was being said, Aearion spoke next. "My Lord, My Lady, you have our word. We will find Aaron and Adan and their companions and bring them home." He paused, searching for the right words. "And avenge this slight upon your honor."

Bard nodded in thanks. "Yes." He saw he'd picked someone he could trust. "It is best if you go as soon as you can, and with little fanfare." He turned to Aldarion, "I trust you will not mind my using my daughter for arranging this audience. It provides some cover to the wagging tongues here about the kingdom, that you are in her favor."

Aldarion looked briefly at Princess Gironne. Thinking quickly, he replied, "Then it would seem appropriate, my Prince... for the ruse... that the Lady … provide me with a favor."

At this, Gironne was surprised, and a little annoyed. She struggled only briefly to keep her emotions hidden. She removed her veil, as it was the only thing handy. With a formal voice, she completed the ruse. "Good Knight, then please accept this favor from my hand." After she handed him the cloth she then added, this time with her real feelings, "Thank you." She looked Aearion in the eye and repeated her thanks to him as well.

In parting, Aldarion answered, "We will send word immediately, once we find out what happened to them." Holding up the veil he was entrusted to return he added, "We will not fail you." Only this time he found himself looking at the unveiled Gironne first, rather than her father. The two knights quickly departed the chalet.

"Aldarion, what was that 'favor' act about?"

"I wanted to see how she reacted. I really can't tell if she cares for me at all."

"You humans are too quick about these things. You have years before you should consider women."

"Remember friend, I will only live to 70, or 80 if I am very strong. You'll still see my great-grandchildren unless you choose to cross the sea."

"True enough. Let's be about our business. I suspect it will be a long night for us."

They returned downhill to Aldarion's father's house in the New Town. They proceeded to arm and pack their horses themselves, keeping even the servants unaware of what they were about. Aldarion left a short note for Aredhel, his mother. They mounted and rode south away from the city, and then off to the west to try to find the missing Silversmith. When they had ridden well out of earshot of Dale and its surroundings, Aearion commented, "I know Adan; he's a good fellow even if his father is a bit over-protective. I hope we can find them quickly, and find that this is all overblown."

"That would make this a very short trip, although we'll still miss the festivities at Dale that you came in for."

The last comment turned out to be true, even if the first did not. They stumbled upon Aaron and Adan's captors, and met a similar fate. Only they were hustled north immediately. Apparently the woman and her minions had found whatever they had been looking for that had kept them lingering in the spot of Aaron's last campsite.

They went north, but some of their arms did not. The wargs charged with collecting them were not very good at counting. Their quivers were found by the next search party that went out from Dale several days later.

Ancalime, daughter of Eldecar and Aredhel, usually preferred the company of her two brothers, or her mother's friends. She was raised in their country estate and always chose to be on a horse when she could avoid town. Which was not now. For at this time, there was a great public celebration; King Brand II, great-grandson of the king of the same name was celebrating 30 years on the throne. Invitations to all the great houses of Gondor, Rohan, Dol Guldor, as well as to all the populace of Dale, Erebor and the Greenwood and even further abroad had been in circulation for months. For Ancalime, this meant more unpleasant time in public, more time being fitted for expensive, if fashionable dresses, but it also time with her two brothers.

But these festivities came with other benefits though: extended visits from her mother's closest friends, 'Aunt' Calådhiel and her sister Gothweniel. They were guests at Eledecar's somewhat lavish city home, while their father Beninion was staying in the Old Town at the Palace as one of the honored guests, and a participant in the royal ceremonies. Calådhiel and Gothweniel's presence during this public 30-year celebration was extremely welcome, as it promised to provide some distraction from the more odious and public aspects of the court and the public appearances expected daily. It also meant that perhaps they could quit the city when the public celebrations were finished. But this was not to happen.

Her older brother had taken advantage of his being a knight and left suddenly for parts unknown with his friend and mentor Aearion. He managed to avoid the whole public affair; now she was left to entertain, and be shown off in public. Eldecar's guests and household were a bit surprised when the two friends disappeared into the night armed and on horseback; however they were used to their brothers' antics. The note mentioned that it was a quick errand for a friend, and they expected to either return or send word within a week. It was now a week hence, and the public celebrations were now starting.

However, in the House of Eldecar, there was little cause for joy. In the days after Aldarion and Aearion had ridden out into the darkness, no word came back. To their surprise, Prince Bard immediately sent another search out, and just today a message arrived from the Prince addressed to Eldecar. The note was brief - that the two were missing. Their quivers were found, but no trace of the two skilled searchers.

Just this morning, a sealed letter, delivered by one of Prince Bard's personal servants arrived at the house. When the servants were away, Aredhel read it aloud to the household. The note briefly explained that Prince Bard, on the word of the King himself had sent the two on this errand. Thus they learned that Aldarion and Aearion had not just gone off for some private adventure. What they learned was that the two had ridden off in service to the King of Dale; in search of a missing silversmith and some men who had disappeared. Aldarion had been entrusted to seek out and find the missing men because they had been carrying something of value to the king. And that it was a far more serious errand than any had anticipated. And all had disappeared.

Ancalime and her two elven friends were surprised. 'Aunt' Calådhiel paced, and it took some convincing by Aredhel and Gothweniel for her to not simply ride off into the wilds after her younger brother. A quiet, brooding meal was shared among the four women. As the afternoon broke with a beautiful cloudless summer sky, Aredhel reminded the three that their fathers expected them to present themselves in the City for the opening ceremonies; that they had brought and made special gowns for the occasion. Starting their preparations, the three aided each other in dressing and arranging their hair.

It was at this juncture that the servants of the house of Eldecar announced visitors. Ancalime was called by the visit of two women she did not know: Two younger women, both veiled. One was announced as "Lona daughter of Alyan" and "Alina daughter of Mark." As her memory played with the names and their relationships, she marked them in her mind as an elven princess and the sister to the missing silversmith. Why they would come visiting now, just hours before they were to be at the celebrations in town were beyond her. Ancalime greeted Lona and Alina, with whom she was unacquainted, and led them to a room where the young ladies could speak in private.

It was hard not to notice them; Lona was about her own height, making her exceedingly tall for one of the Greenwood. And Alina was easily six-feet tall, and very thin. Rather than party clothes, both were dressed in mourning. As the strangers entered the chamber with the other women, they followed custom and removed their veils. But not without interruption.

"Lona!" Was the joyous cry that leaped from Gothweniel's lips. Her elven friend immediately hugged her friend. Ancalime could not help but smile at the two stunningly beautiful women. She was used to Gothweniel and her red hair; but next to Lona, excepting her long black curls, they could be mistaken for twins. Calådhiel smiled, and greeted her in Sindarin, "Lona, who is this that you brought with you?"

With everyone now looking at her, the tall young woman next to Lona smiled, but looked a bit confused. Lona responded for her, flawlessly in the Westron tongue spoken in Dale: "This is my sister Alina. It is her brother and mine that Aldarion and Aearion went searching for. And the recent news has not been encouraging."

Lona introduced Alina as the twin sister to Aaron the missing silversmith, noting that their families had been long acquainted. Mark and his son Aaron's beautiful work graced many of the Woodland folk. Ancalime immediately recognized Mark as the royal jewel smith and recalled that he had an impeccable reputation, not only for good work, but for honest dealings and generous service to the poor and outcast of the city.

Lona's tall friend Alina appeared oddly a little desperate. For her part, Alina was familiar with Ancalime and her family, mostly by reputation, but she was unfamiliar with the two well-dressed Elven ladies standing with her.

Gothweniel spoke next: "Lona - this must be the little girl you told me so many stories of?" Looking up at Alina, "My lady, please allow me to introduce myself. I am Gothweniel, daughter of Vanesse. I have been friends with Lona your whole life; possibly your mother's as well." Pointing to the shortest person in the room, she added: "This is my older sister, Calådhiel."

Lady Calådhiel was tiny, hardly over 5' tall, but there was nothing small about her. She had that permanent youthful look of the Elves, and she knew Calådhiel's name from some memory of her history lessons that she couldn't immediately place.

The tall Elven speaker sort-of resembled Calådhiel. She was human in her height, just slightly taller than Lona, but very similar in age and appearance. But like Lona, this lady showed an unforgettably beautiful, with a disarming smile and gentleness. The similarity between her friend and the lady Gothweniel was astonishing; she had to look at them both twice. Only their hair and eyes set them distinctly apart.

Noting the pensive look on the tall woman's face, Gothweniel spoke gently, "Please tell us what disturbs you. My lady clearly you have some news that Lona thinks that we should all know."

Alina looked to Lona, but remained silent. Lona spoke for them both. "My sister Alina who confided something to me, and knowing that you both were here, I felt obliged to seek out the house where the two daughters of Vanesse are staying. Please hear out her tale. This is about our brothers, and we need your wisdom to discern if and how we should respond." Some recognition and respect awakened in the three listeners. But the words that flowed next from the Jewel smith's tall daughter caught their attention and held it.

Alina faced Ancalime and began. "Lady Ancalime, I know your brother Sir Aldarion is missing, and I know him to be a knight of Dale of unsurpassed honor and skill, and trained in the Greenwood. He was sent by the request of King Brand. He was sent with a small group to quickly find and track our brothers." She paused, pointing to Lona. "I also know that everyone thinks they are dead, and that we should wait or mourn. But I'm here to say that they are not. I'm not sure why, or how. Only Lona believes me. But I sense that my twin brother is very much alive, and that he is somehow desperate. I somehow sense not death, but fear and suffering. I've felt this before as a young girl when we were separated, and this sense was not wrong. But now ..." And she paused to stifle a sob, "I was awakened to the very pointed sense of fear and horror and suffering. I could not shake it." Looking directly at the strangers in front of her, she added, "And the suffering are not dead, but very much alive. He is in the midst of something very terrible, or something terrible just happened to him. And I sense that Aaron is not alone in this suffering either."

She paused, holding back tears that were very real; real for the formless images that had invaded the quiet spaces of her mind, and real because they were mixed with a bit of very immediate fear as she sat before these three impeccably-dressed and noble women. She looked down, feeling incredibly vulnerable. The silence, though brief, seemed interminable.

Ancalime could not believe what she heard. Alive? How? She paused her thinking, to recount that just because she wanted something to be true, it did not make it so. While her mind said 'no,' her heart said otherwise.

Gothweniel looked carefully at the young woman in front of her. Her mind searched for tacit and explicit clues to the person before her. After a careful study, she knowingly chimed in, "Sisters - look at her. The Lady Alina speaks the truth. There is no falsehood in her. We must accept her word."

Knowing that it was not from just her rational senses that her friend spoke, Ancalime took a leap of faith - "Aldarion could be with him. Perhaps they met with the same fate."

Gothweniel smiled and filled the pause, "And then hope against hope, Aearion too!"

Alina replied, "Aearion – who is he? Is he the Greenwood knight who rode out with Sir Aldarion?"

Gothweniel replied, "Yes - our brother. They are best friends - friends his whole life. They went together in search of Adan and Aaron the Silversmith. Your brothers." Ancalime proudly added, "and a great warrior too, he is Aldarion's mentor and friend, and is unequaled as a tracker."

Calådhiel finished her sister's thought, "and there has been no word, which means either they are on a war trail, are themselves captured and unable to reply, or are already dead. This is why we have waited in Aredhel's house, to wait and comfort our friends. The news we received just this morning seems to indicate capture, not death or pursuit."

Lona was a little taken aback by the blunt response from the tiny, yet commanding woman. Getting up her nerve to speak to her friend's older sister, a noblewoman and veteran of the War of the Ring and the terrible siege, one of the 'Red Line of Erebor,' was a little nerve-racking. Calådhiel was young for one of the Greenwood, but still very much her senior in age, rank, experience and reputation. But plucking up her own courage, she answered assertively, "But if Aaron is alive, then so too might be Adan."

Ancalime answered, somehow not at all awed by the commanding little figure next to her, "Adan, son of Alyan - the master of the Greenwood trade guild, and longtime friend of Dale and Laketown? But if Aaron is alive, then Aearion and Aldarion may yet be also - either in pursuit or perhaps with them in suffering." She added hopefully.

Calådhiel also replied, almost casually, "Aearion and Aldarion would not be taken alive, yet their quivers were both reported found, but not they. From what we know, it would seem they are lost to us."

Gothweniel chimed in, "That is not certain. This whole situation is thoroughly odd. Too odd. I just do not believe that anything here is as it appears. Why would Aearion and Aldarion go alone? Why would everything be missing? They only found Aaron's trail. No horses, no tools, no bodies… Tracks covered. The little bit we heard makes this whole situation seem more senseless. I just do not believe any of this is as it appears to be. And I believe that the lady Alina speaks the truth." She paused, both for effect, and to convince herself. "We must have hope."

To this, they all paused. Alina wiped away a tear that was forming. She could not believe her ears. Again, there was a silent pause.

Ancalime reached out to gently touch Alina. Breaking the silence she said, "Lady Alina, while we have just met, we are sisters… Sisters in our suffering for our lost brothers, but also sisters in hope." Alina looked up in hope. Ancalime looked at Lona, then Gothweniel. Seeing the encouragement from them both, she turned to Calådhiel, her elder. "Aunt we have to hope. These ladies are here with a message of hope. If Aaron is alive as the lady Alina believes, then we have reason to hope."

Calådhiel thought for a moment. She responded: "Hope requires action. Others from the court have gone, but they were known." She paused, thinking out loud. "Then _we_ should find them. Now." She paused again. "But we must not be known. These are days of peace. The Enemy was thrown down, and the wars are far to the East and South, not here. What is there to stop us? Ancalime, can you procure horses and supplies from your father? Lona - do you have your bow? When could we leave?"

While Lona nodded, Alina looked on with more than a little bit of shock; She had no idea that anyone would take her so seriously, or to so quickly contemplate what men and warriors do. But then Lona and the beautiful Elven sisters were from the Greenwood. They were older - how old she could never tell. And obviously more impetuous. And her memory awakened - the lady Calådhiel wore a red scar on her right hand, earned in the Great War that destroyed Dale. A battle that led to its restoration, and her lifetime friendship with Lona. Ancalime she did not know, only by reputation as proud and formal. But here she was both welcoming and encouraging.

Ancalime answered, "No. Father would never approve. Not without an escort. And no Aunt, you don't count in his eyes, nor you Gothweniel. Despite your skill and fortitude, you are still women in his eyes."

Calådhiel retorted with a smile, "But not your mother's. Lady Aredhel knows better." Gothweniel gave her a strange look, but she continued. "What about your younger brother, doesn't he count? He won't slow us down too much. He is training as a Squire, is he not? And he rides... well, almost as well as you do. And he ought to be in the city, no?"

Ancalime paused, thought on this idea, and then replied, "No, he doesn't count. He's younger than me. If Alina and I are to accompany you, then we need to find some knight errant that we can trust. Maybe two or three. Then we might be able to convince Father."

Gothweniel looked at her own sister and added, "We should tell Father as well."

Calådhiel answered sternly, "No. We are of age, and he needs to be with the King. Besides, if what you suggest is true, then there is more to this. As you pointed out rightly, things cannot be as they appear. All of our brothers went on a Kings' errand, and they are now all four missing, and others besides. Others have gone out searching, undoubtedly more than we are aware of, and they reported nearly nothing. It clearly would be in our interest to keep the wagging tongues in Dale unaware of our business for as long as possible. The very last people we want to know of our endeavor are the royal households, and that is where Father is."

Alina looked at them all in silent shock, but the four ladies continued talking without paying her the least bit of attention.

Lona thought quickly of her experience in convincing people to buy a good thing. She spoke up next, "If we need to recruit an escort for Alina and Ancalime, I know for certain that there are dozens, if not more such knight-errants here in the old city for the feasting. If not there, then at the open markets. Letters of invitation have been abroad for months." She beamed a knowing smile, "Surely _we_ can find and persuade someone, perhaps several someones to accompany us. But we should move quickly."

Calådhiel agreed, "Agreed. We should move quickly. If our brothers are suffering, as Lady Alina suggests, then there is no time to lose." Turning to Ancalime, she continued, "Let me speak to Aredhel on your behalf."

"Yes Aunt, but we need to recruit an escort. Lady Lona, can you point the way?" Ancalime replied. The stern look that had marked her countenance had been quietly replaced with a determined earnestness.

"Most certainly." Replied Lona confidently. Calådhiel then left to speak with her old friend.

After a short silence, the three women whispered their plans quietly. Ancalime did most of the talking. Gothweniel was her sounding board, occasionally correcting or adding to her plans. Alina listened intently, their earnestness being contagious. When Calådhiel returned smiling, Alina, the tallest of the five, still in shock, followed the determined band out of the beautiful house, and into the darkness. The search was just beginning.


	2. Chapter 2: Leaving the Party

**Chapter 2: Leaving the Party**

Consulting with her lifetime friend, Calådhiel convinced Aredhel of the need to go on this journey quickly, and the importance of Ancalime's and the tall girl's participation. Aredhel understood both the youthful-looking elves' logic, and her determination. Agreeing, she said that she would try to influence her husband, and then they discussed a way to enlist Alina's parents to allow her inclusion. The older-looking woman suggested that she should make the request, and would write a note for Alina's parents. She also agreed with the observation that finding some trustworthy men to accompany them would be wise, and set up agreement from her husband and Alina's parents: With a few 'chaperones' it would certainly be easier to convince the men. She was certain that Ancalime would conduct herself well, but she was not certain that they would be able to convince her husband. Calådhiel still wondered how Aredhel managed in this society, where women had influence, but little autonomy. Action was needed now, and they were clearly among the best to do what needed done. For her part, Aredhel wished she were 20 years younger and could go herself. She closed their conversation by adding, "Aunt, Please find my son. Please bring him home."

With the outline of a plan in place, Calådhiel returned to her sister. "We should find someone from outside Dale, and we should keep this as secret as possible. Clearly someone from Dale knew of Aaron's journey and cargo. And there must be a very good reason for why King Brand or his son would not have sent more men. This all suggests prudence and secrecy. Select no one from Dale." All nodded, except Alina, who was still in shock from the speed at which these ideas had hardened into resolve. She simply could not believe what was happening.

The five ladies, three of whom were already dressed in their fancy party clothes, went out into the evening. With a beautiful late summer evening, they walked with determination uphill toward the music and festivities in the center of town. Alina was still unsure what to do, but she kept her thoughts to herself as they walked. She knew her father and mother were in deep shock and grief, and seemed more worried and distraught than she had ever seen them before. Perhaps these fierce and noble ladies could do something that others could not. She wanted to have hope. She had certainty that Aaron was alive, if not well, and these four - even her friend Lona, seemed prepared to ride off into the wilds at a moment's notice - something she'd never done. Her life had been her family, and her family's friends. She'd been to Gondor exactly once, and Erebor more than a few times, and several times to Lake Town to the south, and even to the Greenwood to the west, but her life had been that of the town, and the home, and caring for her neighbors and friends. Or helping mother and father serve the poor. Like her brother, she'd been taught to read, to write, and the mathematics of trade. Her father was a master at his craft, the head of a small guild, and widely known and respected. Her mother was devoted, industrious and generous. They lived in plenty, worked hard, and had a happy life. She looked forward to marriage - and everyone thought her a great beauty, but she knew she was too tall and too smart for a girl to marry easily, even with the dowry her father had for her.

Her thoughts strayed as she walked toward the sounds of speeches and song. She only vaguely listened as the other four talked quietly to each other, pointing out various young men they passed as they walked. She felt strangely at ease with the three strangers - all but Lona were strangers. But this gnawing thought ate at her - how could she stay here in comfort, with this vision of her twin brother suffering in fear and darkness.

That vision had repeated itself twice, quite vividly since her brother had left with Adan. She could vividly recall once a few years ago, when Aaron had been away on his journeyman work, when a similar feeling had come upon her - she felt like him - or so she thought. She'd felt a piercing pain in her left hand, and a sudden shame and loss. She remembered sharing this with her mother, who simply told her to get back to work. But weeks later, they visited her brother and found him with a scar on his left hand where some molten metal had caught him. In private she found that it had been an accident, and he had been thoroughly embarrassed by the affair. It frightened her that shed been right; and the timing was uncanny - if anything, her sensation might have been a few days _before_ his accident. Of this she was never quite certain. And the only person she shared this with was her lifetime friend Lona.

This friendship had been throughout her life; part of her family's success was due to the shrewd and fair dealings of Lona's father Alyan, the master of the Greenwood trading guild. Ancient, and a veteran of The War, Alyan was different from many. Like a few of the elves, he both married, and raised children. When his wife died before the Gates of Erebor, Alyan chose not solitude or the Grey Havens but industry. He worked hard to invest into the rebuilding of Dale and Laketown, playing an almost heroic role during the early years of the reign of King Bard II, the time they now called the 2nd Restoration. Alyan's investments in the 2nd restoration were very successful, and his reputation for fair, if hard dealing never waned. His investment into the young journeyman jewelsmith named Mark became one of Alyan's most outrageously successful investments, to everyone's mutual benefit.

But for her father Mark, the relationship with Alyan was more than just business. Alyan opened his heart a bit to both Mark and Jenna his wife, and eventually their children. While Alyan's two older children left with others of the Greenwood to resettle Illithien. Mark and Jenna in turn opened their home to his two younger children, Adan and Lona, who quickly became friends with the tall and talented jewelsmith of Dale and his equally tall wife. Consequently Lona spent large blocks of time in Dale in a house where she felt welcome. So when Mark and Jenna had twins, Aaron and Alina, Lona came and stayed often with her family, mastering the Dale accents, both of the country and the city flawlessly. And in these later days in Mark's house, Lona felt more like an elf among humans - short, for not one in the household was less than six feet tall.

To Lona's great joy, Alina grew to be several inches taller than her, yet still the shortest in her family, only six feet tall. But for her people, Lona was still very young, and looked up to Jenna as her own mother. For Lona, Alina was more her sister than her own sister whom she had not seen ever in Alina's lifetime. Lona was Alina's greatest confidante, and at times almost a second mother. So it was that she had shared the frightening tale of Aaron and the molten metal. But the recent images of him were ones she could not let go; they haunted her, and desperately longed to find her brother. This path that Lona was leading her on could not be avoided. And this was the path she now walked among seemingly trustworthy strangers, far more ready to trust her own word than perhaps she was herself. And so she walked with them up the hill, to find a knight or two and go off into the wilderness. The reality of this uphill walk seemed more surreal than the nightmares of her brother.

A short while later, they arrived uphill in the center of town. Rebuilt yet again after the War, it was a beautifully-laid-out city with a large public square right outside of the King's town manor house. Many of those present were their livery with their fancy clothes. They remain on the edges of the crowd, and listen to the heralds proclaim the achievements of the last thirty years of King Brand II's reign. Interspersed with songs, and the occasional hawking of drinks and food, the five remain watchful. Once or twice they point to a small group, or a singleton man standing and listening. Brief conversations ensue, and they shift their position fairly often, looking for clues, avoiding anyone who seems too interested in them. Twice Ancalime stepped forward to introduce herself and make polite inquiries, and then curtsied and withdrew.

After a time they observed two men, one big, and taller than even Alina, and one short - about five and-a-half feet tall, shorter than all but Calådhiel. They both appeared to be edging away from the crowds and festivities, and generally keeping their own company. Ancalime motioned her companions, quietly adding, "These two look promising. I think that is a southern crest; possibly a noble family of Gondor or even further south. Follow me."

Ancalime directed her address to the shorter and better dressed of the two men, wearing a knight's chain. "Good sirs; My friends and I are a bit tired, would you be so kind as to escort us back to my Father's house?"

"Certainly my Lady," replies the short fellow. "How far is your father's house? We are unfamiliar with the city, and have only just arrived ourselves." The knight looks at his companion, and the stunning ladies and whispers, "Nergel, this beats the party, what do you think?" The big fellow, looking at the five beauties before him, nods and smiles. One is almost his height, and he contemplates that there are far worse things to do. Like hang around boring parties and speeches. The only high point of the afternoon had been the food and cheap ale.

"Less than a mile, good sir. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

With a graceful bow, he replies, "Sir Eric of Belfolas, at your service" Nergel just smiled and dipped his head in salute.

"Isn't that in Dol Amroth?"

"Yes, I am impressed. And your name, my lady?"

Curtsying, she replies "I am Ancalime, daughter of Lord Eldacar Vandemere."

"We are most pleased to make your acquaintance. Please allow me to introduce my quiet friend here. This is Nergel, son of Docuress. We are of the King's Company of Crossbowmen, lately in services of the High King Elessar of Gondor. I came here to represent my family at King Brand's 30-year celebration."

"Sir Eric, we gratefully accept your service. Allow me to introduce my companions." Starting with the shortest she begins to introduce her friends, "This is Calådhiel, daughter of Vanesse, cousin to King Thurandril of the Greenwood."

As the tiny Calådhiel curtsied, he responds in nearly flawless Sindarin, " _It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady._ " That was not quite expected. She smiles silently from under her veil. Even though he cannot see under her veil, he can tell that she is a great beauty.

"This is Gothweniel, her sister, daughter of Vanesse, cousin to King Thurandril of the Greenwood."

As Gothweniel bows, he again speaks in nearly flawless Sindarin, " _We are happy to serve you._ " She smiles silently as well. He has to check himself, for the tall woman in front of him is almost God-like in her beauty and graceful flowing movements and flaming red hair sticking out from under her veil.

"This is Lona, daughter of Alyan, also of the Greenwood."

This time, Sir Eric is taken aback. Not just that the woman in front of him is a tall elf of queenly beauty, but rather that there ever could be two such women in the world, and that they would both be standing in front of him at the same time, and talking to them. It takes a moment for his mind to kick in, and he says in Sindarin, " _It is a great pleasure to serve yo_ u." She smiles demurely.

Ancalime continued with the introductions, directing their attention to the tallest of the group. "This is Alina, daughter of Mark the master jewelsmith."

While she curtsies, the tall young woman reveals herself as also incredibly pretty. Though almost plain when compared to Gothweniel and Lona, she is far handsomer than almost every woman Eric had ever met. Switching to Westron to match the dress of Alina, he replies "A pleasure, my lady." Her dress spoke volumes about her family and station in life. Neither of the Greenwood, nor of nobility, she was still in rich, well-made clothes common to members of the guild class. "Sir Knight," she replied. She dipped her head in a graceful and trained curtsy. Nergel, his much taller and longtime friend and companion, is quite glad he's not being called upon to speak - for this beautiful woman is not some tiny creature like Calådhiel, who was just introduced, nor some untouchable of noble birth like Ancalime, but of his own class. Thin, tall, graceful, quiet, and seeking their assistance. He thought he noticed what looked like a tear in her eye. It was more than a bit unnerving.

They escorted the ladies down the hill. Gothweniel and Lona both waste no time calming and greeting their two big war horses, and appear to be masters of the creatures, and seem more pleased with the horses' company than their own.

Directed by Ancalime, they walked up to a noble house, lower down and closer to the City Wall, where they are granted entrance by liveried servants and shown to a room to sit. Three of the young ladies pester the two men with questions about their families, where they are from, why they are here, how long they were planning to stay in Dale. They were each charming and pleasant, genuinely interested in their responses. They ask them little questions probing their relationship, and their service. They had just been welcomed into one of the best houses in the city, and their time here was thoroughly enjoyable, if in a quiet, noble way. They both found it very hard not to be agreeable with the pleasant and courteous treatment they received.

This quiet enjoyment, both of the talk and of meeting good people is interrupted when Ancalime bluntly asks them to accompany them on an search to find their missing brothers. When they find that they expect the journey to be weeks, Sir Eric quickly realizes that this could take months, as apparently others had failed. After thinking on it a bit, they agree, if not for the honor and adventure, if only to escape the social responsibilities of the celebration and the political climate of court. They been discussing just such a scheme earlier that day, and praying for an opportunity to depart without embarrassing either Eric's family or the Company of Bowmen.

Ancalime and Calådhiel excused themselves from the room. After a short time, Aredhel wife of Eldacar and mistress of the house joins them. They all stand as the matron enters the room. Gothweniel proceeds with introductions, which struck Nergel as extremely odd, when this was the Lady Aredhel's home. Eric discerned a much longer history between the older woman and the youthful elf, realizing that while only appearing 16 or 17 years of age, she was easily twice Lady Aredhel's age, if not more. The tiny Calådhiel, appearing to be perhaps in her twenties, was clearly her senior, and most likely a veteran of The War. With a cautious glance, he instantly recognized a thin red scar across the inside fingers of her right hand. The stories of The War, and tales of the terrible battle before the gates of Erebor came to mind. In his head, he conjured a host of Goblins and Easterlings that surprised and beset Dale and overran the city. The men of Dale fought to allow their people to retreat into the mountain, and a desperate siege began. The tale told of Elven, Dwarvish and Human archers standing behind bales of arrows firing flight after flight until their bowstrings cut into their own flesh to protect the King. Finally near the end of the day, they were finally overwhelmed and they retreated into Erebor. Dale was completely razed, but the overthrow of the Dark Lord allowed the siege to be broken. The thoughts of how those fateful days must have shaped the lives of the noble company around him continued to replay in his mind.

After they sit, gentle conversation about the adventures and service of The Company of Bowmen, and news and goings on in Gondor and the south continued. Nergel and Sir Eric both feel a bit nervous, as if they are being interviewed, yet the gentle encouraging and respectful talk continued. While Ancalime and Gothweniel led much of the talking, Calådhiel and Lona gently filled in whenever there was an uncomfortable lull. Only the tall Alina remained rather shy and quiet.

Shifting topics, the mistress of the house and the two elven sisters kept up a steady conversation, mostly getting the two men to talk about themselves and their adventures in the King's service. Aredhel shared of her love and knowledge of Sindarin, and her long history with the elven folk, validating that sense that there was indeed a lifetime of history between herself and the two daughters of Vanesse. She then went on to explain that her daughter Ancalime's namesake, her maternal great grandmother, had also been at the siege, and it was through her that her relationship with Calådhiel and Gothweniel began. Gothweniel with her charming smile and flaming hair chimed in on the story, while Calådhiel smiled and remained silent. The two men quickly recognized the sign of a veteran, and remembering the great siege, knew there was a great tale yet to hear.

Aredhel found herself liking the two young men, and quietly passes this approval to Calådhiel and to her daughter. Without disturbing the flow of the conversation, she quietly sent a servant to fetch her husband and youngest son from the festivities in the center of town. At that point, the conversation shifted completely. With a nod from her mother, Ancalime began, "We are planning to depart tonight in search of the missing men. These are our brothers and friends, and we will not sit idle while they remain in danger."

Gothweniel, flashing a fierce glance from her green eyes, picked up immediately. "Unlike the rumors abroad, we have fair reason to believe them alive, and in danger." As she spoke, Nergel noticed a slight glance from both Ancalime and the dark-haired Lona toward Alina. "We request your honorable assistance. We ask nothing else but your protection and escort, and know not where this ride into the darkness will take us, nor how long."

With a charm that was almost palpable, Lona flashed an equally determined look at each of them. "We believe that my brother and his friend Aaron are both prisoners, and have been taken against their will. We do not believe them dead, and we mean to find them. From the tales you tell us, you are both brave and resourceful. Will you accompany us? We have need of both of you." To deny such an entreaty was beyond him, and Eric found himself nodding in agreement until Nergel touched his arm.

Whispering in his ear, his friend continued, "This is far better than waiting around in court for days to give a gift. We have no cause to return until Spring. We won't be missed."

Calådhiel broke in bluntly, "Will you join us until we find them?"

Realizing her parents would certainly keep her home without such an escort, the hitherto silent Alina's eyes met those of Nergel, his tall companion. She concluded with a single word: "Please?"

Eric, glanced at his friend, and saw the look of adventure in his eyes. Summoning his courtesy, he replied, "it would be a great honor to share in this quest. My sword is at your service."

Nergel added with a smile, "And my axe." The room lightened, and everyone smiled.

Eric concluded, "When do we begin? We are mostly packed now. What will it take to be ready?"

Aredhel answered this question for everyone. "Convince my husband." He is on his way back from the court festival now. "I will greet him first, and then you all will be able to make your case. Let us hope he sees the sense in this plan."

She continued, "Alina, Lona, will you please attend my daughter on this travel? Please, ask your parents in my name. Lona, please return to your home with Alina and beg your parents' permission."

She moves over to a writing table, where she sits. Aredhel takes up a quill pen and starts drafting a note to Alinna's parents. Looking down at the paper, she says "Send them this, and be very clear that you are going under the protection of our house, and that of Lord Beninion of the Greenwood. Your person and your honor are in our care, and with a prayer you will be successful. Be clear. Tell them of the reason for haste and for secrecy." She paused at the table, finished the note. Then she took out wax, carefully sealing it. Aredhel handed Alina the note, now sealed with their family crest.

Lona acted as if this were the most normal course of events. Alina was unaware that the Lady Aredhel would write to allow her to travel with her daughter to find her brother. She had no idea what to say except 'yes'. The two donned their veils and prepared to depart.

Before they left the house, Calådhiel took charge again, giving instructions like a knight would, "Make it clear that whatever happened to your brothers, and probably ours, there were people in Dale, probably in the court who were aware. We must act in haste to avoid giving any warning of our departure or our intentions. Be clear that we have secured an honorable escort, and that we will return or send news when we can. Lona, dear - help her pack sanely. You must travel very light. Pack a good cloak for the weather. Aredhel will provide horses, and we will meet you at the Silversmith's house tonight."

Conversation continued quietly, as Eric, ever fond of a mystery, questioned the two elven sisters about the disappearances. He agreed with Calådhiel's assertions that the less shared outside the better; it would improve their chances of success ~or at least their safety.

With some convincing by his daughter and wife, Eldecar, Ancalime's Father agreed reluctantly. Unable to resist their argument, Eldecar required his youngest son Meneldor to accompany them. He agreed to provide horses from their stable, as well as cloaks and equipment. He thought it a fools' errand, but if it kept them from mourning in the house, so much the better.

Ancalime and Meneldor picked out their horses; Meneldor's was a relatively big warhorse, and Ancalime's a fleet, agile and younger mare. Four others, and two pack horses are set aside with tack, cloaks, food, and a small set of camp gear. While all of their tack and blankets bear the crest of the house, little else of show is assembled. Their fancy clothes are exchanged for plainer, green and grey clothing of the woodlands. The two children both pack the livery of their house, for they are the children of Eldecar. Meneldor takes his chain armor with leather, as well as a shield and spear. The three elven ladies all have Elven-styled leather and metal, along with bows with full quivers that are also packed. Aredhel produces some light swords suitable for them as well. With a quick goodbye to their parents, the two Vandemere children join their friends. They finish their packing.

Escorted by Eric and Nergel on the horses intended for Lona and Alina, they ride out into the night to meet Lona and Alina. Nergel and Eric are asked where their horses were stabled. Responding with a location, they take a detour to collect their horses and kit, and proceed to the section of town where Alina and Lona live.

While all of this was transpiring at Eldecar's beautiful house near the city wall, further uphill was the residence of Mark the Silversmith. Here, Lona and Alina enter into a house clearly in mourning. When they enter, Jenna, Alina's mother greets them both, and asks where they had been, and if they'd attended any of the celebration uphill. Dropping their veils as they enter the house, Alina replied truthfully that they had. When it was her turn, Lona hugged the woman she regarded as her own mother, and taking her aside, addressed her.

"Mother, we also went to visit my friend Gothweniel-the-fair, daughter of Vanesse of the Greenwood. She is staying at the house of Eldecar the Elector. She sends her greetings. But while we were there, they shared with us of their loss. The story that Aearion and Aldarion were sent to find Alyan and Aaron was apparently true, and the rumor that they were possibly taken captive is also true. However, they strongly suspect that Aaron's and Alyan's disappearance was not random, but rather there is some plot afoot, of which they are all ensnared."

Alina added, "Mother, they believe, as I do that they are not dead, but need help."

Jenna looked at her daughter with a serious look on her face. Not certain of what she read in her face, she replied, "Who are we to be a part of this? We are not warriors or trackers " She pauses to look at Lona quizzically, "Well, at least not all of us. The King will see to this trouble. He promised this to us two weeks ago when Prince Bard visited. You were there."

Alina continued, "Yes mother. But this is the point. The King and the Prince also sent both our brothers and theirs to their doom. You remember the determined look on his face that night, and his promise to seek them out. But nothing has come back but wild rumors that do nothing to serve those lost, or the king. The king must be hampered by spies. Otherwise none of this could have happened."

Jenna paused, giving a surprisingly knowing look at her daughter, and the elven woman she looked on as her daughter since her marriage nearly twenty years ago. "We need to consult your father. He is in the sitting room."

"Yes, please." Replied both girls. They retired to a different room in the house, where Mark sat gazing at the lit fireplace. The evening light gave the room a cast of gloom and despair, despite the beautiful things, mostly crafted from metal that decorated the stone walls.

"Dearest, Alina and Lona have returned from their outing."

"Oh. Good." Mark stands up and greets the two friends. His own daughter was almost his height and equaled that of her mother. The other, beautiful beyond words, was much shorter, somewhere around 5'8". He always found it a good joke that Lona, an outsider and now for twenty years their part-time daughter, was considered somewhat of a giant among her own people. Yet she felt happily dwarfed in his home, while his own daughter often felt the giant and out-of-place among her own people. "What news do you bring? Anything new from Prince Bard?" Nodding to Lona, "Or your father?"

"Neither sir." Replied Alina. Lona motioned to her and whispered "Tell him."

"Father, we went to visit Lona's close friends, the daughters of Vanesse. They are at the House of Eldecar the Elector."

He looked at them both, and knit his brows, thinking of the Lord Eldecar Vandemere and his reputation for being overly proper about rank and privilege. "Yes... They received you at their house?"

"They did indeed father, and in fact, Lady Aredhel was very kind, and sends her greetings... and this note."

"This is indeed a great honor, coming from one of the leading houses in the Kingdom. But why..."

Alina lost no time. "Father, they are of the firm belief that Aaron and Adan are alive. They mean to search them out _tonight_ , without anyone's notice. They've asked us both to accompany them."

"But Alina, you are not suited for this; you don't even have a horse, or any experience of such a campaign. Lona, I can see - it is common for her people, but you? You are our gem, far more gracious and beautiful than all of the creations in my workshop has ever or will ever put together. How can you think of such a thing?"

Alina paused. Lona answered for her adopted sister, "Father, it was not our idea. Lady Aredhel asked us, and we believe with very good reason for haste and secrecy." He looked at them with surprise and displeasure.

"Father, please look at her note." Added Alina. "It is for you and Mother." She held out the note, neatly addressed to her father and his wife, bearing the seal of Eldecar the Elector.

The older man paused and recognizing the seal he broke it. He moved closer to the fire where the light was better. His face changed to that of concern, and then to determination. He motioned to his wife, "Dearest, please come read this."

Jenna moved over to the fireplace and took the note from her husband. While she read, he looked on his daughters with sorrow, and pride. Glancing at his wife, "What do you think, dear? Do you agree?" With a tear glistening in the reflected firelight, she turned and faced the two girls.

Mark spoke next. "She is right of course. We always thought it might come to this. We did not expect Aaron to get into this trouble, but his talents apparently did not go unnoticed by others." Taking Alina's hands, he continued, "My dearest, you are his twin, and you must help find him, and bring him home." Looking to Lona he continued, "We will say that you both have returned to your father's house in the Greenwood and will not be missed. Trust us, that this journey will remain hidden by us. If becomes necessary, we will communicate only with Lord Eldecar and Lady Aredhel, and only when necessary."

Jenna added, "Please send word when you can through Lady Aredhel."

Alina could not believe what she was hearing. She wondered what the Lady Aredhel had written in the few short lines. And then she watched her father take the note from her mother's hand and drop it into the fireplace. "This interview has not happened. Please gather your traveling things and wait for your escort. I expect they will arrive soon."

Jenna went with the girls, and they found their things. Lona changes and packs quickly, taking an extra dress besides her traveling clothes, weapons and simple armor. Alina takes more time, and Lona and Jenna work with her to find things. While she has a good cloak, Jenna has to provide her with a dress and riding boots. She spends many moments hugging her daughter, fighting back tears. To Lona she says, "Please take good care of her, and bring her back. Bring them both back." Only Mark escorts them outside into the evening shadows when the sound of ten horses is heard outside their door.

He hugs both Alina and the 'tiny' Lona. Mark then gives a vicious looking dagger and belt to his daughter. Alina puts it on, and her father adjusts it for her. They hug silently. After tying their bundles behind the saddles of two of the horses, Lona mounts one. Then with her father's assistance, Alina mounts a tall steed, with Calådhiel mounted behind her. Her father did not recognize the queenly-looking yet tiny elf maiden, but clearly his daughter did, for they greeted each other. He thought it made good sense to have someone ride with Alina, as she had no idea how to handle a horse. Two of the horses had pack saddles, with bags of food, poles and tentage strapped down.

With night falling, they ride out toward the city gate using more of the back streets, all in single-file. As they leave the city and go out into the shadows of the countryside, Eric notes that Calådhiel and Ancalime have followed a route north to take them away from roads and more settled lands. When they are far enough from settlement, they turn west toward the Greenwood. It was a long ride, at a steady pace that seems to go on forever. The women do not speak at all, and it is very clear that Meneldor, Eric and Nergel are just part of the troop. After an exhausting night, they find a quiet wood where they bed down at dawn.

While the men immediately pitch camp, the elves calm and groom the horses, finding them some woodland grass and leaves. Too tired to talk much, and watching their big horses being very well cared for, Eric and Nergel also sit to rest. The strangest part was watching Meneldor and the four shorter women - they seemed to know the routine, and they all managed to distribute the work quickly with only a few instructions and a little encouragement. Only Alina had nothing to do, but even she was given small tasks.

Eric and Nergel commented to each other that their wish to politely escape the party seems to have come true and faster than they ever could have imagined. Who were these women? Maybe a desire for honor and adventure was not such a good thing to follow so unexpectedly. On the other hand, the company was charming, and aside from Alina, appeared to be well-set to the tasks at hand. What mess have they gotten themselves into this time? Things seemed well enough, though. Only time would tell.


	3. Chapter 3: Misleading Appearances

**Chapter 3: Misleading Appearances.**

When the travelers awoke, they found their secluded camp site in very good order. Eric and Nergel got up early, both to scout and to look after their horses. Here they found that Lona, Gothweniel and Calådhiel had taken great care of the big beasts, as well as the others. They horses had been rearranged and retethered It took them a few minutes to figure out why they had been changed; the horses apparently grouped by how they got along with each other.

The three elves appeared to have just come in from a perimeter away from the horses and tents, with the tallest of the three - the red haired Gothweniel - still walking in from downwind of their little encampment. Eric, with his curiosity piqued, addressed the smallest of the three, recognizing that he still felt a bit intimidated.

"My lady Calådhiel," he began in Sindarin. With her attention fixed, he switched to the Westron tongue to ensure Nergel would clearly understand whatever story he could get told.

"My Lady, why did you take on this quest? It seems that we have very little information upon which to act."

"Sir... Eric? Correct? My reasons are quite simple, and already stated. My brother Aearion is missing. These are supposed to be days of relative peace, and it would take far more powerful forces than just bandits for him to disappear without a trace, especially with Aldarion with him. Either one is capable Of significant mischief on their own, and together they are quite dangerous. I am of the Greenwood, and I do not trust that the men of Dale, my brother's squire notwithstanding, to be able to find him. But Aldarion is missing with him. That leaves... us."

"Then, My Lady, were the two sent out immediately to find Aaron, Adan and the three men with them?"

"Yes, exactly."

She appeared ready to be about her business, so he questioned her further.

"Aearion, he is your older brother? Or younger?"

"He is my younger brother. As you probably know, I am much older than I appear. Older than your great-grand parents, and probably their grand parents as well. I was not very mature at time of Battle of Five Armies, when Dale was restored the first time; My parents both escorted the King, and fought in that great battle. So I stayed home and took care of my younger bother Aearion while our parents were away." She paused and added. "Concerning this quest, we appreciate your assistance, although I hope we do not inconvenience you both too much. Meneldor will not care. He is still young, and just sees this as enjoyable adventure, not dangerous. I trust you both will not make that mistake."

Nergel and Eric looked at each other before Eric replied. "Most certainly not. From the few facts understood, there is certainly something amiss. I am only curious how we hope to find their trail, when apparently so many others have failed."

Calådhiel stops to think for a moment before answering. "My little sister," pausing to nod in her direction, "has reason to have hope. Real hope always asks for consummate action, so it seemed appropriate that we not sit on our hope, but act on it. The trail will only grow colder. The difference is that we will be long away from Dale before anyone realizes what we are about."

"You are quite confident that we will find them then?"

"No; please do not misunderstand my meaning. I have _hope_. Hope is not seen; otherwise it is not hope but something else. But hope will not disappoint, especially if we are patient with the trials that ensue. And from this hope, my sister and Lona both derive great joy."

Nergel could not help himself, "Well said, My Lady." She suppressed a smile.

Eric let the moment pass respectfully, and then continued. "So we will start where we think their trail ends?"

"Yes, that would seem prudent. We may yet find something that others overlooked."

"That is something to hope for, then." Eric concluded.

A small, cold meal was served, and it was the men who felt the escorted, not the escort. Alina, still rather sore from the night's riding eventually joined them. Eric and Nergel both paused, as quite unexpectedly they watched Meneldor and Ancalime working, apparently unphased by the sudden shift of scene; from beautiful trappings in a privileged noble house, to plain, rugged clothing managing horses and equipment. For the young squire, it seemed normal. Ancalime did not appear anything like what he had expected. Her behavior did not match his expectations of noble women. But then again, exactly nothing of the past 24 hours had gone as it was expected. He listened to the quiet banter between the Vandemere siblings.

"Brother, keep the two Amroth horses together. I think they'll be calmer together."

"Yes sister."

"Check their hooves too."

"Yes sister."

"And move our horses' picketers so they can graze better."

"Yes Sister. Sister, did you get permission from Sir Piers just to make me work the horses for you?"

"Meneldor, How could you think that?" With a bit of fake indignation. "Sir Piers was _very_ explicit. He said that you could go with us _only_ on the condition that we had you carry _lots_ of wood and water, and drill with the knights, and do dishes. Let me think what else he said. Oh yes - Clean armour, improve your archery. " She paused briefly. "Oh and improve your cooking. I could have easily forgotten something. Perhaps I should ask Aunt Calåthiel, she might remember."

Although he was larger than his sister, he realized again why he should never fight with her. And that 'Aunt' Calåthiel would have a much longer list of chores. "Perhaps not." He answered. Then he capitulated. "Could you pass me our hard brush when you're done with it? Ours works better than the one the Southern knights brought."

"Most certainly, I'll trade you for your curry comb when you're done with it."

Eric thought to himself that his hard brush was a bit worn. From the few minutes of observation, he perceived that this sort of work was not new to either of these children of privilege. Ancalime wore a beautifully-made, if very practical dress, with skirts hiked up in an elven fashion. She even used well-worn and beautifully fitted gloves to protect her hands. Clearly something for someone without calloused hands, and only something owned by someone who'd done this work often.

Oddly, as he watched her maneuver horses and tack, the high-born Ancalime seemed to be more at ease here among the grass and dirt than at her father's house. This too he filed away in his mind. He expected this martial bearing in ladies of the Greenwood; The insight that awoke in his mind was that the well-armed Ancalime was probably trained as well. Observing the two elven sisters and Ancalime, he could only guess at the competence implied of their missing brothers. He looked forward to meeting them. All of the women, except Alina were well armed; Though even she carried a rather long dagger.

After watching all of them, he noticed that there was little useless motion. Meneldor and Ancalime were preparing to rest, so Eric asked them when they were expecting to start out; Ancalime commented that if they were traveling by day, they'd already have broken camp. A short distance away Lona explained quietly to Alina that she should stretch, which she then demonstrated several times before she helped to rub down her sore legs. Calådhiel joined her, and the two quietly asked her where things hurt. They then retired out of sight for a short time. When they returned, Alina looked somewhat relieved. Following the advice given her, she took water and retired to go back to sleep. Ancalime excused herself and did the same.

Suddenly, Nergel and Eric found themselves alone with the three Elvish women. Eric, knowing the elvish stamina, remembered that they could, and often did sleep without closing their eyes; but he'd never actually seen a female elf do this, even though he spent many years as a child among their people. Silence spread through the clearing. It was the red-haired Gothweniel who interrupted the silence: "Sir Eric, your Sindarin is very good. Where did you learn our language?"

He replied, "I spent most of my childhood in Ithillien, among your people."

Lona spoke up, "My older brother and sister settled in Ithillien. Perhaps you met them?"

"My lady, I was very young. I haven't been back for any length of time in over ten years."

Calådhiel immediately joined in questioning, "But you are a knight of Belfolas. How came you to live in Ithillien? Most noble families in Gondor keep their young boys at home until they are old enough for to be a page for another's house and start their training."

Eric immediately saw that this young-looking woman was very intelligent, and not to be trifled with. He decided quickly that anything short of the full truth would be pointless. "Yes, my lady. That is if your mother is married. Mine was not, so she disappeared to Ithillien to have me, and she never left. Until I was ten I was raised among mostly Elven kind. My friends growing up were of your people, and the few humans who retreated there when another Southron war came back to the shores of Dol Amroth. That is when I met Nergel here, although he was smaller then." He couldn't help smiling at his large friend. He laughed inside, remembering that among Nergel's brothers, he was still affectionately called 'the runt.' He and his family had came to live there, along with other families of the Company." It was shortly after this that my father, whom I had never met, came and claimed me as his own, as his heir, and took me into the service of the Company of Crossbowen as a page. The last half of my life has been training to be a knight, and in the service of the Company with my father. Nergel's family is also with the Company, and Nergel and I have been together that whole time."

Lona noted "You say nothing of your service," after Eric paused.

"Many of those stories are not fit for female ears, even if you are each better archers than either of us."

"Perhaps we should give that a try!" Gothweniel interjected with a charming smile. Eric could not help but note how hard it was to say, or even think 'no' to such an entreaty. Or nearly any entreaty that she or Lona put forward. While it was pleasant, it was certainly uncanny. Their charisma could be irresistible at times.

Calådhiel once again took command of the conversation. "Yes, sister. Perhaps after dinner. We should rest now. In the afternoon, we can get up and pack up again. At least until we are further away from Dale, we should travel at night to avoid notice."

Nergel asked, "Why my lady, is there so much need for secrecy? Aren't we clear of the city?"

Calådhiel replied "Oh - you aren't from Dale. For all of its pretense to be a large and thriving city, Dale is still a small place where everyone seems to know, or to want to know everything about everyone. Even your absence will not go unnoticed. Ancalime is asleep now, but she and her family are much closer to the court. The original mission of Adan and Aaron was supposed to be a secret. They were carrying something from King Brand to King Thurandril, and there are many who would like to know the items and purpose of that visit. But more importantly, if they were waylaid, only knowledge at the very highest level could have known the timing and purpose of their journey and stopped them. This is why our brothers were engaged, and sent secretly. Why they failed is yet another mystery."

Eric interjected, "I see. So presumably, some person or persons near the king betrayed the missions, and those same persons probably have led to the failed searches and the rumors."

"Perhaps. But if that is remotely true, then our safety, as well as our possibilities for success would be significantly compromised if the nature of our travels were known. And if it is not true, they will not be harmed significantly by such discretion."

"True my lady, but it does slow us down a by about half a day. It is a risk, albeit a calculated one."

"Quite true, Sir Eric. That is a risk we will take. The trail is already cold. A few more hours will make no difference." Calådhiel confirmed.

"Then the lady Aredhel and Lord Eldecar will be covering our tracks, so-to-speak." He elaborated.

"Yes, and Jenna and Mark the Silversmith." Lona added.

Still intrigued by Calådhiel, Eric took the opportunity to question her again.

"Lady Calådhiel, you mentioned that you took care of your brother, Aearion during the time of the Battle of Five Armies."

All three women were a little surprised that he had picked up on that detail. As Calådhiel did not reply very quickly, Gothweniel answered first, explaining a little bit about their family; How in that victory, and in particular the beginning of a thaw among Elves, Humans and Dwarves, their parents saw in this a call to life, and so Calådhiel was graced soon thereafter with a sister.

"And a very fair sister, indeed." Eric added, somewhat involuntarily. To shift his awkwardness, he changed the topic. "But darker times returned to Erebor and Dale."

Gothweniel took it upon herself again to answer. Yes; Calådhiel fought in the War of the Ring, as did our brother. "While your ancestors fought in the South, and even at the White City, it was a great host from the east and from the north that converged upon Dale and Erebor. All before it was crushed, and the survivors of Dale retreated into the mountain."

Eric and Nergel were only vaguely familiar with the story, so it was Lona who continued.

She explained how King Dain and King Brand sent for help. While their own people were fighting for the Greenwood, King Thurandril sent Calådhiel's and Gothweniel's father Beninion with companies of archers to their relief. Calådhiel was among them. The siege was heavy, and the enemy had massive siege engines prepared to break down the gates of Erebor. Beninon's force attacked the besieging hoard with great surprise and speed. They briefly broke the enemy lines, allowing Brand and Dain to sally from beneath the mountain and set fire to the siege equipment before the Gate.

Calådhiel finally picked up the tale. Their attention focused on her. "But we did not succeed fast enough. The Easterlings brought in their reserves from around the sides of the mountain, and under hails of arrows forced our lines back. We were surrounded and cut off, both from retreat and from the safety of the mountain. The Dwarven and Human troops in front of the Gate were fighting to let the siege engines burn, for if the engines were recovered, then all would have been for naught. King Brand, already wounded, ordered his royal guard mounted and sent sent them as a forlorn hope to break through to us. Although they were themselves outnumbered, Brand gambled his best reserve to save our people."

She calmly continued her story. "It was a sight to see. They started their charge in a column, behind their own lines. The Dale shield wall parted, and a full, heavy-horse charge broke the Goblin lines. Surprised, they chased fleeing Goblins and crashed into the rear of the Easterling troops surrounding us. Dain and Brand wasted no time, as they swarmed into the gaping hole left in their ranks, closing the distance between their shields and our bows."

The tiny woman was looking beyond them; her face revealed a hint of a smile, a whisper of pride as she recalled this moment of glory, of hope. Meneldor was listening intently, clearly with his mind engaged imagining the scenes of battle. For Eric and Nergel, both of whom had been in battle, the images were not so pleasant. Both perked up, recognizing the courage Brand showed in risking his reserves in such a desperate move, and expecting a victorious result.

Calådhiel continued, "But while the Goblins were mostly routed, the Easterlings were not. Their reserves came swarming down into the swale and we had a desperate fight all the way to the safety of the Dwarvish lines extending from the gate. The injured, including our mother, went on the horses with the men, or on any horse left unmounted. It was a black rain of Easterling arrows that poured into the melees that broke out, cutting down men, elves, horses and Easterlings' alike. More than a few of us walked or rode with their black arrows still stuck in our armour. More than a few looked like hedgehogs. But while we reached the gates of Erebor, not all did." She paused the story, looking to Gothweniel, as if that was enough.

"But Sister, you are leaving out the best part." Her sister interjected. "You see, this was the turning point in the battle. While the Goblins rallied, a mob-like hosts of Easterlings chased the mounted men and elves to the shield wall near the burning siege engines. The archers arrived exhausted, and with empty quivers. The horses and wounded went into the mountain. Our mother was fortunate enough to be among the wounded, as was Lona's father. Her mother was not so fortunate. "

She paused to honor Lona's mother, and then continued in the form of all good tales.

"Our father, Calådhiel and the rest wasted no time in rejoining the fight. Brand had seen what was happening, and as the mounted spears rode out, he ordered bales of longbow arrows, also from their reserves, to be laid out in a line before the gate. And on seeing the bales, Father knew exactly what to do. He led the elven archers to form ranks upon the bundles of arrows. They were quickly joined by the remaining archers of Dale and Erebor. Placed on an elevation in front of the Gate, they sent their own deadly rain in support of the Dwarvish and human shield wall in front of them. As an Easterling moved to extinguish the flames engulfing the siege equipment, a hail of well-placed arrows brought them down. It went on like this for hours. Even the wounded stayed to hand arrows to those who continued to loose flight after flight."

Eric could not help himself. "Hours, my Lady? That is impossible. No one can keep shooting for that long." He interjected.

Calådhiel, piqued, now spoke. "Well, yes. It was impossible. But the fight was desperate. Every man, elf and dwarf knew there would be no mercy for them, or any of their kin if the enemy broke in. We just kept shooting. And shooting. At first the bundles were our own palisade, protecting our legs from the enemy. One-by-one they were broken open and distributed. And each archer stood and fired until exhaustion, blood loss, or an arrow dropped them. The disabled were pulled back into the mountain, and our ranks closed. We fired until we could not think, only react. And we fired until we could not feel the pain, as each pull of the bow hurt your hand, arm, shoulder and back. We did't stop when we noticed that it was our own blood running from our fingers as the string cut through your skin. And when your string failed, you picked up the nearest bow and continued. "

Eric's eyes were wide with surprise. Nergel's head shook back and forth in an involuntary 'no', and his right hand was clenched. Lona looked at the two soldiers, "You do not know this story, do you?" She asked. Eric and Nergel both shook their heads. Eric thought he did, but he really wanted to hear the real story. And the two story tellers were enchanting. Alina, Lona and Ancalime were attentive too, but clearly were familiar with the tale.

Lona continued. "She was in the 'Red Line' of Erebor. It was under the shelter of these archers and their rain of death that King Dain and the rearguard fought. They were surrounded on three sides. A sea of packed troops of Easterlings and Goblins crashed again and again on their shield wall, and every breakthrough was met with this rain, and while the allied lines shrank and slowly retreated from the flames, they never broke. Most of the wounded were pulled to safety. It was here that King Dain stood over the body of his dying friend, King Brand. It was here that he met his end in the sight of the Gate, still wielding his great axe. It was here that Thorin III Stonehelm, Beninion and Bard II, son of Brand led the allied peoples when the darkness fell on the last warriors on that desperate field. Thorin, Bard, Beninion and the men and dwarves of the shield wall and the red line retreated into Erebor, closing the Gate behind them, including a younger Calådhiel. The siege resumed, but with the engines destroyed, and the terrible casualties they had inflicted, all in the mountain had hope."

"And hope did not disappoint." Eric concluded. And he noticed that during the story, Calådhiel kept her right hand closed. Later, he noticed the scar. He hoped he could be that brave when so pressed.

Their camp was simple, and had just two small tents - one for the ladies and one for the men. The two soldiers checked on the horses, and then went to their tent to rest. Meneldor was already fast asleep when Nergel and Eric made the effort to rest. Nergel, wrapping his eyes in a scarf, eventually slipped off, but Eric could not keep his mind from wandering. Even after letting the images of the story of 'the red line,' there was too much to think of. There were too many clues, and too little known to draw them together. Lona and Gothweniel took up watch points away from the camp, but in easy earshot, while the others rested. Gothweniel managed to shoot a deer that wandered too close to their camp.

As afternoon waned, Ancalime and Meneldor awoke, and after watering the horses, awakened the rest of the camp to the smell of roasting venison. After a good meal, the packing commenced quickly, and Lona worked with Alina to show her how to pack and tie the horses. She was a quick learner, and her height made some things easy for her. Despite being well out of her element, Alina found the industrious elves to be much to her liking. She couldn't fathom Ancalime, though. Her impression of her was always that of perfection: very stately and remote, yet here in the woods, she seemed quite happy, even dirty. She teased her 'Aunt' Calådhiel that she would best her with a bow. And Calådhiel teased back. Nergel and Eric watched with amusement. Meneldor seemed to ignore the entire scene completely, as if this were normal for noble children of one of the leading families in Dale.

It was decided to have a archery contest to pass the time until nightfall. Needing targets for their archery competition, a short discussion broke out between Calådhiel and Eric about what to use for butts. Both seemed focused on how to have a good shoot, and yet reduce the risk of damaging any of the arrows or bolts. Both agreed that this is bad for their journey, but that the practice and camaraderie would do them all well. Despite the quiet banter in elvish, the results appeared to be of mutual benefit. A partly-decayed log was lifted and leaned up against a large tree, with the soft side exposed as the target. This clearly revealed Nergel to be the strongest among them, but this was no surprise to any of them as he stood 6'3", much taller than the 5'6" Eric and the 5'7" Meneldor. An archery competition ensued, where Alina was elected the judge, as she did not shoot. The women progressively increased the distance. Meneldor was the first to drop out; Eric with his longbow dropped out next, then Ancalime with hers. After walking the butt back yet another 20 yards, then Gothweniel missed a shot. The elves all watched in wonder watching Nergel crank his heavy crossbow so quickly. Nergel finally missed his mark, and Lona and Calådhiel quickly decided to change the game to speed shooting.

Here, Eric and Gothweniel quickly showed their talents, being clearly faster than everyone else. Lona was clearly beaming, watching her red-haired friend intensely loosing shaft after shaft into the tree. The two were quickly locked in a steady, swift cadence. Their quivers quickly emptied. Gothweniel's green eyes narrowed as she focused, and Eric broke out in a sweat as the pace slowly increased, with their arrows thudding into the wood almost simultaneously. The wood quickly resembled a hedgehog, and the steady pace of 'thunk', 'thunk', 'thunk' amazed all. With a nod from Calådhiel, Lona and Meneldor both stuck arrows in the ground at the foot of each archer. Reaching the ends of their quivers, neither skipped a beat as they started using the arrows stuck in the ground. Finally, Gothweniel's shot clearly got off noticeably before Eric's, but also missed the mark. Applause broke out, and with the relief of the tension, both Gothweniel and Eric both nearly fell over. Meneldor quickly steped up to take Eric's bow and shoulder, steadying him easily. Ancalime and Calådhiel moved to Gothweniel, who was near to feint. Nergel and Eric turned to Gothweniel with eyes wide with amazement, and almost simultaneously speaking "well shot!" With big smiles by all. Eric stretched and flexed his draw hand repeatedly. Preparing his hands for war was painful.

Nergel spoke to the winner saying, "My lady, I've never seen anyone _ever_ best him at a speed shoot. In fact, I've never seen anyone keep up with him for more than five flights, much less twenty-five! You are an amazing archer." The gracious smile and courtesy that she returned made Eric feel the exhausting effort was completely worth it. This was the first time since he was a child that he ever remembered meeting his equal in this type of match. It was a little humbling, but also put him at ease and feel accepted among these queenly creatures. For her part, it had been a long, long time since she had been seriously challenged, and she was amazed at her own performance. It was comforting to know that she could still shoot as fast, and as accurately as ever. It took them quite a while to retrieve all of the arrows.

After the shoot, Nergel took his ease watching the four ladies checking their bowstrings and arrows. He couldn't help but sense the dichotomy of how these beautiful, charming and engaging women contrasted against how skilled and dangerous they were. Even if Anclime's bow was not very powerful, she was a surprisingly good shot. He did not want to be at the receiving end of whatever she was aiming at. He strangely suspected they would have need of both sets of talents. While Alina seemed quite liked and welcomed, she also seemed out of place. He made it a point to make small talk with her, as did Meneldor. After their fun shooting, they finished loading the horses, and got back onto the trail as the shadows of evening grew longer.

They traveled in this manner that night and the next, with each of their afternoons spent in training. After crossing the river that ran to Laketown, on the third day they finally switched to traveling by daylight towards where they thought the scene of the first ambush took place. Tracking other recent horse tracks left in the area, they found what they believed to be the site of the original raid. With an area clearly swamped by human and horse tracks, they spread their search a bit wider. They were at this for several hours, and they finally stopped when they found odd evidence that looked like a giant dog's track. All of the elves, and even Meneldor took a close look at it. For Eric and Nergel, this was something completely new. Calådhiel gave a knowing look, but whatever thoughts she had about this strange find, she kept to herself. The track was hidden in some soft ground behind tufts of grass; probably not seen by others. Wherever they went, they much evidence of trail coverage, but not clear evidence of direction or numbers - but lots of tracks of men who appeared to have been searching the area rather thoroughly. What they didn't find were many horse prints, aside from relatively recent ones. This was all very strange, considering that five horses had been a part of the Jewelsmith's and two more in the missing trackers' party. That was a lot missing horse prints.

The human footprints and more recent horse prints all led to the south. This strange track however was some distance from the apparent site of the ambush, but was directed off to the west. After consulting amongst themselves, they decided that following the other tracks was a waste of their time. Presumably, those were the same people who reported that they had found nothing. Nothing that is except Aldarion's and Aearion's quivers. They decided to head west, toward the wooded areas that bordered the Woodland Realm.

They traveled slowly, with the three elves searching the ground for tracks. After a few hours this began to pay off. They found several more of these large dog-like prints, actually more like a cross between a wolf and a bear. Finally Calådhiel shared her insight with her sister and Lona: "I think these are warg tracks. I haven't seen these in decades. I thought they were all gone after the fall of the Dark Lord."

The two younger elves looked at her in amazement, and began repeating words to each other that they had learned as children, words in the language of the goblins. Words they had not spoken, or heard since the war. Calådhiel corrected their pronunciation. It felt like she was ripping her throat apart, but she remembered. With a suggestion from Nergel, they made sure that Alina was armed with the nasty dagger her father had given her, and that her horse carried a sword. Nergel enjoyed himself showing her how to use it, and they spend time hacking at a few bushes as she rode past. While she lacked the determination to really kill something, she was surprisingly good at parrying. With his encouragement, she was learning how to hold on to it when blocking a heavy stroke. Her ability to handle the horse had certainly improved, but each time she dismounted, she could still hardly walk without help. He enjoyed these opportunities as well.

These warg tracks all headed west, but as they neared to the edge of the Woodland Kingdom, they turned north. Periodically they would find a horse print or two, but all the tracks were scattered, and old. As another evening comes, Alina is relieved to get off her horse, another evening so sore that she could hardly walk. Nergel tried to strike up a conversation to distract her from her misery. Calådhiel and Ancalime take the horses, and as on other evenings, after the tack and kit is removed, walk the horses to grass and leaves, talking to them, pampering them. Eric thought it was funny watching the experienced Calådhiel pampering his horse with its shoulder more than half-again her height. While Meneldor and the two southern knights set up the camp, Gothweniel set to preparing a meal, and Lona alternatively looked after her sore friend, and helped Gothweniel.

While they put up the tents, Eric asked Meneldor about his brother. He explained that as the eldest and inheritor, their father had arranged for him to serve as a page and squire who was apprenticed, not to a knight of Dale or Gondor, but to Beninion's son, brother to the two daughters of Vanesse. That was more than nine years ago. He explained that the concept of pages in the Greenwood is rather strange, and so pages are not treated as they are in human households. As a young page in the Greenwood, Aldarion was all but adopted by Gothweniel, who taught him Sindarin and treated him as her little brother. Meneldor explained how 'Aunt' Gothweniel in some ways was like a second mother to him, especially while he was in training as a knight. Eric interrupted him, noting that Meneldor's mother used the same term with the lady Calådhiel the night the left Dale. Meneldor acknowledged without pause, "Of course. We all do. She was her mother's best friend, and hers as well" and continued with his tale. Apparently this was normal to their family.

He continued his explanation, "Aunt Gothweniel and Aldarion were very close; she became a second mother to him. Their trust and friendship were strong and happy, and they, with encouragement from Aearion fostered in each other a love for life, and family, and all that is good and noble." He was a bit sad that his father did not secure the same boon for him, and so his training has been with one of his mother's second cousins. Aldarion periodically took him and his sister on long rides into the wilds to camp and show them the ways of the forest, and her creatures. Otherwise he might never learned how to shoot a bow. His older sister, while not as strong, was usually the better shot.

Eric and Nergel listened to the young man go on, sharing little stories, but not really saying very much. But they got the image of Aldarion as a pretty competent knight and forester. The respect Meneldor had for his 'Aunts' was also very clear. He mentioned with pride that Calådhiel and her father were both veterans of The War and members of "The Red Line." They found it odd that he pointed this out after they all had heard the tale. This must have had a more significant impact on Dale than they had realized.

Curious, when they finished with the tents and other chores, Nergel asked the boy why 'The Red Line' was so important. Meneldor explained that The Red Line were among the last warriors who retreated into Erebor after the death of both kings. They were the ones who won that battle, they and the two Kings who fought the rearguard action that broke the might of the enemy. More importantly, any family of Dale who had an ancestor in those ranks, be they low born or high, was still held in great honor. And that he mentioned with pride that he had been in Erebor, and had himself met at least two ancient dwarves with really long white beards with those same scars. They told him the tale of the rescue of Beninion and the elves, of Brand's order to pull out bales of arrows from the mountain, and the formation of the Red Line of archers. And they told with tears the Death of King Dain, standing over the body of his friend, King Brand I. He ended his tale with, "And Calådhiel and her father are both marked. They broke the might of the Goblins and Easterlings, and they were both there at the end." The pride and respect with which he held them was so evident, that they didn't ask more. He hoped he'd have time to hear more of these tales before they became legends. They took turns on watch, while the rest slept soundly.

On their second day past the ambush site, they came across a trail that was far more definite. At this point, with the elves spread out with Meneldor and Eric also searching, they came across fresh tracks, and this time not just a few large prints, but also a few smaller ones. These were definitely heading south and at a great pace, and unlike the older prints, showed no signs of coverup.

Collecting their troop, They decided to follow these newer tracks, as these were fresher, and easier to follow. Their pace picks up considerably. Periodically the five searchers amongst them with fan out and look for other tracks. What they found was frightening. While the new were tracks were some days old, another set, even fresher, perhaps only the last night showed another group of wargs clearly following. This second group was far more uniform in size. They also showed the same speed, with tracks spread apart as if at a lope. They all mounted and followed at a canter.

With Calthiel, Gothweniel and Lona on foot, they traveled at a run, with the horses following inline behind, staying in sight, but not too close. The second pattern appears to be that a band of adult wargs, probably a dozen strong, possibly more that appears to have been following another band. The leading band clearly has yearlings, and at least one adult with a noticeably odd gait from the tracks. The leading group appeared to be following alternatively at the top of short ridge lines between the stream beds, or periodically along the stream beds between the wooded ridge lines. As they traveled rapidly south and west, they found at least two points where the following group apparently went off the trail, and then circled back to pick up the trail again. After their first discovery of this, they managed to skip several loops, and gain both time and distance on the both trails.

Throughout this busy day, Meneldor seemed quite at home with the somewhat commanding Calådhiel, and unphased by the graceful women working all around him. Eric and Nergel both found themselves still a bit tongue-tied. As they sat to their meal, Calådhiel began thinking out loud, recounting the clues and trails. This intelligent and structured thinking awakened Eric's voice, and he found himself reinforcing some of her theories, while declining others. This led to a continued debate, almost like a court, with all but Alina chiming in. Eric and Calådhiel took the lead in discussing what they'd discovered. They all agreed that the leading group is slower, and apparently deliberately setting false trails. That these creatures would be this far south was shocking; realizing how close they were to the border of The Greenwood, they debated the merits of splitting up to report this to the Elves, but they agreed that this would slow them down too much. And the potential danger of a group of 12 or more determined Wargs makes separating too risky. The probability that they might find a border patrol anyway, was good, so they decided to continue as group.

The tone then grew more serious, as they took time to discuss the nature of the dangers they were facing. Eric and Nergel ask pointed questions about these wolf-bear like creatures, and how they fight and how to defeat them. Calådhiel described what she knew; that they are evil; a cross between a giant wolf and a bear, with a bad temperament. Somewhat sentient, they speak a very limited tongue. Their habits are similar to wolves, with an Alpha Male and female in charge of a pack, with death usually the end of the Alpha male. In the wilds, they would hunt in packs, particularly for large Elk and Horses. But unlike wolves, they are quite subject to control, usually by Goblins or Orcs, who with limited tack would ride these fearsome creatures into battle. They played an unusually important role in the Battle of Five Armies, and a lesser one in the Battle-Before-The-Gate a generation later. With the downfall of the Dark Lord and the near-complete disappearance of the Orcs and Goblins, they had not been seen for several generations, with the occasional hunter claiming one in the Northern Mountains.

She explained that these creatures were difficult creatures to fight in a melee, as they are fast and viscous, using teeth and claw, and particularly good at bashing their opponents and snapping necks or breaking leg or arm bones. They are particularly weak against archers, but can be hard to hit because of their speed. However, a shot to the chest or in their mouth will often incapacitate one. She suggests they practice archery on moving deer, if they can afford to lose a few arrows into bargain. "It might pay off if we find them." Noting that like wolves or the northern white bears, these beasts were expert trackers. "Let's pay attention to the wind, and try to make sure it is we who find them first, and not the alternative," she adds. Alina was chilled to her bones, as to her this comment felt more like a prophecy than a direction.

The next day they made an early start. It was another quiet morning riding through a rather mature forest, where the trail narrowed. With heavy trees, with scattered underbrush, some spaces were more open at the forest floor, and others were more dense. While the horses could get around these brush patches easily, they stayed clear of them. This meant that they had slowed more to a line, with the elves in front, Ancalime, Meneldor and Alina in the middle, with Nergel and Eric at the rear leading the pack horses. Up and down shallow hills and dry ravines they travelled for much of the morning hours. The elves stayed a bit ahead, spread out, with the rest of the party following behind.

About mid-morning, Gothweniel signaled for caution, and when her hand signal reached them they all stopped. Meneldor quietly slipped on his helmet, and unslung his shield; Nergel and Eric did the same. The three elves made their way silently toward a point on the short ridge just ahead of them. A quiet bird call attracted the attention of the children of Aredhel, and awoke a childhood memory that Eric couldn't place. 'Forward' whispered Ancalime to her brother as she drew her sword. She and Meneldor spurred their horses to the front, as he turned and motioned the two soldiers to watch the lady Alina and their flanks.

The trail then exploded into motion; Two massive wolf-like beasts, each weighing as much as a pony exploded into view running headlong toward the two riders; they immediately broke into a run, with Ancalime maneuvering her horse to Meneldor's sword side, and less than a length behind. The closing distance evaporated and just before the contact, the lead warg stumbled to his left, and then collapsed in a ball as a first arrow buried itself in the right side shoulder, and a second from the left buried itself deeply in its chest. The warg charging behind it paused slightly and dodged left, only to have one arrow pass in front of it from the right, and a second catch it in the flank from the left. It continued forward into the charging horses, but missed it's leap at Meneldor as a swift slash laid open its neck. And as the beast passed her, the tip of Ancalime's sword laid open its back. Meneldor directed his large horse to run over the struggling warg that was felled by the two arrows, which he left frothing blood.

"Another" was heard in Sindarin from further uphill as three more arrows from three different angles dropped a third warg. Eric, Nergel and Alina rode up to the two dying wargs, leading the unmounted horses. They paused to dispatch them. Alina looked on in horror.

Further ahead, Ancalime was in close formation behind her brother. Passing the third dying warg, they crested the low hill to see the three elves spread out, with their bows half-drawn as they moved down the forested hill. They caught only a glimpse through the trees of a warg retreating at a full run. Calådhiel raised her arm, and said something quietly, and her sister and friend split in opposite directions to go scout.

Pulling up her horse, Ancalime with her blue eyes wide with excitement, broke the quiet speaking - "Thank you for the good shooting Aunt. Do you think there are more?" Meneldor looked to the tiny woman for direction. "Should I pull arrows for you?"

"No, stay mounted and ready. I'll get to that." Replied Calådhiel. "Keep an ear out for Gothweniel and Lona."

Eric and Nergel rode up with Alina and the five horses. While Eric noticed that that while the young man was still shaking from the incident, whoever his knight was rose in his opinion; his training was obviously good; he was still composed and steady. Ancalime was not; she was clearly flushed, and breathing heavily, although her horse was clearly excited by the action, and tossing her head up and down, but still quite controlled.

"These are massive. You say they can talk? If one got away, then we clearly are in danger."

"Yes, we need to move quickly." Replied Calådhiel.

"What direction did they approach from? From the direction of the trail, or elsewhere?" Eric replied.

"Elsewhere; Out of the Northeast. Our trail runs to the south and east."

"Could we mount and move more quickly? Distance might be in our favor. It would mean losing close tracking, but the risk seems warranted." Calådhiel appeared to be thinking about this statement, as she and they walked down hill a bit to the spot where the first two wargs lay dead. She began to draw arrows from the bodies of the beasts. "Yes. Actually that makes good sense." She paused to pull another arrow. None were easy to pull.

Nergel dismounted and began to help her. With a quick inquiry, the two of them started the search for a total of ten arrows. He ran the math in his head: Ten arrows from three archers; seven were solid hits on moving targets. All ten were loosed before he could even get into the action. He was very glad these three women were on their side.

As he pulled the last arrow from the last of the dead wargs, he somehow could feel no sorrow for the death of these three creatures; they seemed brutal beyond words, and whatever noises they made dying were horrible sounds. They seemed to ooze evil intent. "These come from the North?" He asked her.

"Yes, up in the Northern mountains; they used to live in the Misty Mountains too. None have been this far south since The War, and before that, the battle of Five Armies." Calådhiel answered. "Only then, they had Warg Riders to command them. Now, they appear to be without riders to direct them."

With nine arrows located, she chose to mount with the others, and they all changed pace. Eric suggested that they alternatively run and walk the horses for most of an hour, and then take a brief break themselves. Gothweniel and Lona returned and mounted as well. Each of the elves would take turns on foot, with one continuing at a run to keep an eye for signs on the ground in front of them. They periodically shifted directions, and found good points to cross the small streams they encountered. The occasional tracks they found showed that wargs had moved through at a good pace, and that there were both adults and young amount them. They continued at this pace for most of the day, covering a significant distance.

In the evening they took a longer break just uphill from a stream. After taking off their saddles, Calådhiel and Nergel led the horses down to water them. Nergel spoke up, "Were you there as well, my lady, at the Battle of Five Armies?" The big soldier asked.

"No, I was too young to fight then." He paused to imagine how old this young-looking woman was. He made a mental note to ask more stories of her.

Eric joined the conversation. "Do you think these were scouts who attacked us?"

"Yes, most likely. Though, I would imagine that they would scout in pairs; Having two pairs seems not very wolf-like. Also, it seems stupid that they would attack."

"But from their perspective, there were five humans on horses, not all armed, and five other horses. That is quite a catch." Eric added. "I suspect they were being greedy."

"Yes. In their greed, they didn't notice us." She said, referring to Lona and her sister.

"That was a very costly mistake." Added Nergel.

"Not costly enough." added Ancalime. "I feel we're in serious danger because we didn't get the last of the four."

"There could easily have been more, even another that we failed to spot." Calådhiel replied. "They are intelligent creatures, even if created for evil. When they have the choice, they will look after themselves. While they know no valor, they do know discretion. They can be routed." Eric tucked away that bit of knowledge for future use.

The next day wore on quickly. They moved at a great pace, and the three elves traded off who was riding both to ensure that Alina would have company on her horse, but also to give themselves some rest. League after league ran behind them. As evening approached, they found a meadow where the horses could drink and eat. They were now quite a distance further south and east than when they had awoken; having been on the edges of the Woodland realm, a day or two more at this pace and they would soon be drawing close to human settlements.

It was a long day, and all but Nergel and Alina were tired. They broke out the tents, with a quiet routine. All spoke with muffled voices. Ancalime and Meneldor both saw to the horses, with help from Gothweniel. Alina went to light a fire, but Calådhiel whispered something and stopped her. They then prepared a cold meal, quickly serving some of the cooked deer meat from several days ago.

When Lona came, Alina commented to her, "Those creatures - they seem so vicious, as if that is all they are made for."

Lona replied, "I think so, but I've never seen one before. It seems so sad that the first time I meet a living creature and I had to kill it - or be killed." She had killed animals before, but never had she felt so threatened before. On one hand, she was a little proud that she had responded well; on the other hand, she was surprised how fearful she had been, and how close she had come to freezing up. That thought made her shiver.

Calådhiel added, "Yes Alina. Lona is right. They were bred by the Dark One for evil. They were intended as creatures of violence and Chaos." She added sadly, "But we thought those days were past."

Listening to the conversation, Nergel and Ancalime came up and joined them.

"Lady Calådhiel, I do not think I can express this rightly. I've never seen a 'Warg' as you called hem before. But I feel like I've seen these things before. In my mind. Somehow I was not as afraid of them as I feel I should have been."

"Is this like that image of Aaron that kept in your mind?" Asked Lona.

"Yes - I guess. They seem related. But I can't place it." Replied Alina.

Calådhiel's curiosity was piqued, "Alina - have you ever been out in the wilds like this?"

"No. My family is from the city. I've been to Erebor twice for festivals, and to Lona's home for a few weeks, and even to Gondor once. But never like this."

"But you seem to fit here, with us. You seem comfortable even. With the horses, the work, the discomforts. But more importantly with us. And as Lona is your only friend here, that is just a little odd. Why do you think that is?"

"I see what you mean, and yes - I do feel comfortable with you all. But I'm not certain why. You are all so gracious and friendly, even the strangers you found." Eric, having come close to listen - glanced at Nergel who glanced back. She continued, "Also, Aaron and I were raised with work; despite being from a rich family, I am quite happy with the work and discomforts of this travel." Pausing to rub some sore spots in her legs, she interrupted herself: "Well, maybe not _all_ of the discomforts." Everyone smiled, and with a quiet laugh from those sitting, the shadows quietly deepened around them. Neither Lona or Gothweniel had been riding very much lately, so they understood exactly what she meant. She continued, "But there's more to it than this. It's as if I knew I would be here; well, not _here_ , like in _this_ glade with _these_ shadows and _these_ particular trees, but with you." She paused to point around, particularly to Ancalime. "I can't place it. I mean, Ancalime, I have only seen you twice in my life, and I've heard the stories of your great grandmother, but it is like I saw you flashing that sword yesterday morning, and riding into battle. Although I thought I saw you leading mounted men into battle. While I was horrified at the reality, I realized that I had seen that scene before, or one like it. I guess these many days and nights of riding have left me a lot of time for contemplation."

Ancalime thought this odd, but not surprising. Her own performance yesterday morning had been both a surprise, and not - she almost felt joy, and exhilaration from the morning's battle. Her face grew a bit more serious, and she turned to Calådhiel: "Aunt, what do you think she means?"

Calådhiel looked up at her friend and replied, "I'm not sure, but we shall see, shall we not? The lady Alina speaks honestly."

Gothweniel asked her about her sense of her brother, and if that had changed. Alina paused and thought deeply, and replied that had not. The same sense of fear and suffering still prevailed.

This time, it was Nergel who spoke up, "My lady, are there other similar scenes that have passed your mind?"

She paused to look at him in the twilight shadows, and seeming to draw a memory to mind, answered him. "Well, yes." She paused. "I recall an image of one of those beasts - no, it must have been several - standing on you. Not tearing at you, but standing on you. I don't know what that means. It makes no sense, why would they just stand on you?"

They all looked at her with a look of horror. Nergel was unphased. "We'll see." He replied. I certainly won't let them do that to you, my lady. You have my word."

Alina blushed, but no one could really tell in the fading light. Even Calådhiel found herself nodding in agreement. "Perhaps we should go to sleep; we have an early morning. Gothweniel, Lona and I will take the first watch. Why don't you rest first?"

Speaking for the three men of the party, he Eric answered from the evening shadows. "My lady, I suggest each of us also take a turn. We'll stay closer to the camp."

"You had best keep your armour about you, Sir Knight." Replied Calådhiel. He silently agreed.


	4. Chapter 4: Friend or Foe

**Chapter 4 - Friend or Foe**

Not but a few miles downwind of where the party encamped, a group of wargs turned to give council. Speaking in their own tongue, which was a combination of body and voice language, they discussed the difficulties of carrying on. They had only managed to catch two deer in two days, as they had been far too busy to hunt. This was too much for a few of the older ones. They had to stop running. They argued that despite their speed in traveling south, their scouts had warned that the G'Hochx were still only hours behind them. Even stopping now to rest and talk was dangerous.

Their discussion ranged from leaving the weak to the G'Hochx, to turning and fighting them to the death. This continued until one of the large females put an end to the chatter and said simply that they left to return to the old way, and the old way was that of the pack; They would fight, rather than give up their own. Rest now, for the surprise will be theirs, even if it meant the end of their band. She walked and sniffed each warg on a patch of their back leg that had no hair. To each one, big and small she spoke their name. We are H'Chyal'ch; we are one, and we will not give in. We will fight. The male ended the council: "Now we rest. In the morning, _we_ hunt."

The day's exertions left most of the party exhausted. Gothweniel and Nergel took the first watch while the others slept. Rest did not come easy for Alina; She woke and found herself muffling a scream. Although she made very little noise, it immediately woke Calådhiel. After the tiny woman put down her bow, she whispered to Alina; Alina whispered back that she was afraid, and added "Lona, they are coming."

In the dark, Alina thought it was her adopted sister. Calådhiel did not correct her. "Quiet." Calådhiel whispered back. In the darkness of the tent she put on her leather armor. Calådhiel then took the time to comfort her friend, stroking her hair, and quietly praying a song of light over the tall, thin and frightened girl. Ancalime and Lona were still asleep.

Calådhiel heard Alina stir again. And then listened as Eric relieved Nergel from the camp watch. As midnight approached, with a gentle wind shaking the trees, Eric quietly took Nergel's place. Nergel returned to the tent where Meneldor slept quietly. He took off his helmet, and prepared to shed his mail before going to sleep. It was the middle watch, those cool hours before the pre-dawn. The breeze came and went, gently shaking the leaves.

For Gothweniel the breeze was the most difficult part of her night. She was on watch outside the camp. She had nestled herself upwind in a tree, realizing that a Warg trying to scout them would move upwind of them to gain surprise. But they are quit hunters, used to hunting bears and other large creatures. And this night there was a breeze, which varied often, gently shaking the leaves - beautiful and restful to listen to, and perfect cover for stalking prey. That thought put her on edge as she focused intently on the sounds, smells and shadows around her and the nearby campsite. And it had been a long time since she had been this cautious, this concerned of what might be lurking among the trees nearby. And she felt responsible for this adventure; she knew deep in her heart that the tall, shy Alina was truthful in her conviction about her brother. But it was on her assertion that got them here. And the trails she had seen these past days showed that there were numbers of very dangerous creatures out there. And now was the best time for them to hunt, and with the irregular noise of the leaves, she could not hear movement on the ground.

She scanned intently, looking in the shadows around her perch, and the tents. She listened to the horses, mostly sleeping. But then she noticed one perk up, nervous. The breeze again picked up, shaking the leaves, but a shadow off to her left moved. She quickly notched an arrow and sang out in the call of a night bird, that all but Alina and possibly Meneldor and Nergel would know to be a warning.

The nightbird's call from Gothweniel broke the air. The moon was near full, and shed an eerie shadow through the trees into the small meadow. Nergel quietly rose from where he was resting, but not yet asleep. He shook Meneldor and left the tent to walk over to the horses, as he noticed that they were uneasy. He moved to calm his big horse and decided to loose her from the picket line. He fixed the bridal quickly, and immediately followed with the blanket as quietly as he could. The scene exploded before he could finish getting the saddle on.

As Meneldor woke, he quietly reached for his sword first. He quietly listened to the ladies' tent, and heard quiet stirring. In the darkness, he pulled on his padding. "Caution" he whispered. He poked his head out and noticed a smaller form immediately roll out from under the lady's tent and slip off into the woods. The others were clearly moving. Suddenly, the space around him exploded into action.

Eric's sword sang out as it left its sheath and no sooner did that happen then a quick involuntary leap took him out of the path of several hundred pounds of warg. Nimble enough, he managed to dodge dark blur of a beast, so that it only pushed him off balance instead of bowling him over. With no chance to strike, he was quickly back on his feet as an adult warg turned to face him. Another quick leap kept him away from another warg's charge, only this time he was able to connect with his sword as it brushed past. It was not a solid hit, but the sword point laid open its exposed flank.

At the same time Eric was being charged, no less than six wargs went after the line of horses. Working in pairs, they clamped their jaws on each end of the the picket rope, and put their weight into breaking the line. One end parted quickly, but not the other. Backing and plunging, it pulled the rope around, leading the unwilling beasts Away. Their neighing broke open the quiet night.

Nergel dumped the unstrapped saddle and mounted bareback, and with his shield hand on the reigns, and the other on his war axe, spurred his horse past the two beasts clinging to the nearest end. His blade connected hard, and a yelp and crack of bone as he accelerated past. It's companion let the line go and leaped up to get at the big rider. Its jaws bit down on the mailed arm holding the reins, forcing the horse to pivot to the left. Leaning back to keep from being pulled off the horse, he let the horse's pivot carry them around as he swung hard with his axe, chopping down onto the warg's face. The first blows missed, with his mailed fist hitting the creature's nose first. The next blow glanced down its nose, connecting with the creature's eye. As it suddenly released his arm, he struggled to recover his balance, desperately missing his stirrups. His horse carried him further away from the horse line. As the big horse moved away from the line, the glade exploded into shadowy motion.

As the motion in and around the Camp exploded in the weak moonlight, Calådhiel instinctively leaped into the nearest large tree; no sooner had she done this, then wargs sped under her, right where she'd been just moments before; she froze, and then climbed higher to see if she could get a shot. She distinctly heard the word "Prisoners!" Spoken out loud in the Goblin tongue she had not heard spoken in a lifetime.

The two wargs facing Eric paused to get his bearing in the darkness. Eric's strength in a melee, unlike that of his friend, was his dexterity. Having two assailants only made him focus more quickly, and without his shield, he pulled his dagger and dodged the blows aimed at him. The warg on the left made the mistake of letting him back, and took a nasty slash to the shoulder for its trouble, but it allowed another warg to catch him from the back. While it's claws hit him on the shoulder of his sword arm, the momentum carried him down to the ground. He rolled onto the ground, thankful he had armor and padding, but the two bleeding wargs piled onto his arms, pinning him to the ground. His dagger hand broke free long enough to make one strike at the other, but only once. He was at their mercy. While not seriously hurt, they quickly disarmed and pinned him down. One warg actually stepped on his helmet, forcing his face to the side as someone tied his arms. He heard a language he did not understand, and while only a few wargs spoke at all, he found it a bit unnerving.

Growls rent the air as wargs took down the tents on top of the occupants. Meneldor and the women had little chance. Wargs went after the tent lines, toppling the cloth on top of their occupants. Wargs grabbed the canvas, cunningly turning the tents into bags, with struggling humans within. Two wargs alternately swing their faces like clubs where Meneldor's head should be. He collapsed. They moved on to the women's tent. With her line of fire briefly clear, Calådhiel's arrow caught one of them, burying itself deep between the creature's ribs. It turned to face the direction of the shot, and saying something, had its' breath cut off by a shot to its throat. Several wargs charged in the direction it faced. Desperately wounded, it started in the same direction, and collapsed gurgling near the tent unable to breathe.

Meanwhile, Nergel kicked his horse into speed. To try to keep the wargs moving, he turned and headed to the women's tent had been standing. Now a struggling mass of canvas, people and wargs, he aimed a hard strike as he rode past. The warg managed to dodge the blow, only to get pulled under the hooves of the big horse. He slipped past, turning for another run, only to find another warg leaping up after his sword arm. Nergel reacted with a quick spin; with both hands, he let fly a hard swing of his blade, nearly decapitating the 300 lb warg that leaped at him; but the beast, or what was left of it knocked him over, covering him in blood. It's impact carried him over the side of his horse and down to the ground. Four other wargs leaped on him as he tried to rise, separately tearing the axe and shield from each arm. It was a desperate struggle.

A Westron tongue rang out, "Surrender!" A few garish voices were heard from the wargs. The commanding voice replied in an equally garish tone. Then in Westron it spoke, "They want your flesh for food; apparently four of my friends are dead, and they want you to pay for their loss."

He all but barked out a violent answer, in the unintelligible tongue. "Agho, Ngalth" several wargs repeated. All of the elves knew what transpired, including Lona, still caught under the tent, and Calådhiel and Gothweniel some distance away. He had told them in the Goblin tongue that these were _his_ prisoners, and they would be carried north as slaves. And they spoke back in warg, using their stance and words to give a sign of obedience. That did not stop them from snarling, particularly as the man who spoke this walked up to the warg with the arrows buried in it. The hooded man listened to the blood bubbling from both wounds, its labored breathing, said a word of parting and slit its throat. He walked over to the whimpering one struggling to stand near where the horse line had been. Recognizing that its leg was laid open to the bone, and having a compound fracture, he repeated the process. Its whimpering quickly stopped.

Dozens of pairs of eyes stared at them. Alina Was beside herself with fear. She had difficulty controlling her trembling. Ancalime was almost stoic, and showed no emotion but on the inside was boiling, especially seeing her little brother collapsed in the dim moonlight. Lona fought being depressed, having moved too slowly to escape.

Disarmed, Eric, Meneldor, Nergel, Ancalime, Alina and Lona had their hands tied. With another word of command, several wargs ran off to chase down and bring back the horses. "This is a fine catch." The man said. He looked at Lona in the dim moonlight, and said "This one will fetch a great price. No, we'll take them all with us." Rooting through their bags, he flung out all of their venison to his angry minions.

As the prisoners sat in the darkness, the elves could make out some of their speech to each other. The discernable words sounded as if "this ambush was harder than the ones with the silver." And sometime later that "They too had an elven type among the prisoners." They grumbled, but obeyed. They mentioned a different name, translated roughly as "Queen Dwin" was the best they could make out. Other fragments mentioned "taking others in armor", and about the arrows that felled two of their company. Strangely, they mentioned nothing about the two of their wounded now dead.

It was still night, and the dawn had not yet come. With noses to the air, the H'Chyal'ch almost simultaneously rose to their feet. "Blood" they commented to each other knowingly. Their pack leader said, "It is time." He looked at each, knowing that he was consigning many,perhaps all to death. He began to move upwind. As a body, the pack grouped up, and followed the scent. Accelerating to a run, they headed roughly north, upwind. "Split. Take them from two sides. Lick their blood."

Nearby, quite separated from one another, Gothweniel and Calådhiel watched and listened from upwind of the camp. While Gothweniel was fully armed, Calådhiel had only her bow and quiver. In her haste she had left her belt in the tent. Daylight grew near. Calådhiel gave a morning bird's call to encourage Gothweniel, Lona and Ancalime. With the early light she could see that her sister was not among the captured, and that everyone appeared alive, if a bit worse for the wear. Nergel in particular looked beaten, he and Meneldor were on the ground, but was being attended by Ancalime and Alina. Eric was bound. She noticed that Nergel's horse appeared missing, although his saddle was still among the rest. She counted at least a score or more adult wargs. Knowing a little of the beasts, suspected that a few more were out watching, like the one under her tree. Three more appeared dead on the ground, several showed streaks of bright scarlet through their grey and brown coats.

As the light rose, the hooded man approached Ancalime and Alina, and ordered them to saddle the horses. Several menacing wargs stood close by. It was at this point that they noticed that one of the wargs actually had a saddle. It was a rather simple affair, but a saddle none-the-less. As they started working the horses, the hooded man commented to Ancalime, "Woman, don't think that these hoofed beasts can outrun my company. They can't. And trust me, they would much rather tear you all limb-from-limb and eat you. Do not think of escape." They silently continued with their work.

As the morning hours dawned, the two were finally finished with the horses. While there were occasional chirps from the birds, normal to these predawn hours, Alncalime smiled inwardly as she recognized a call, one that Aunt Calådhiel and Aunt Gothweniel had taught her. And it was answered. She knew they were not dead, and there was hope; some slim chance that they might escape, if not immediately.

But this hopeful thought was immediately replaced by concern. Some disturbance among the beasts was happening off to their left, and immediately several threatening wargs surrounded the prisoners. The man bound the two women's hands. As if on a cue, snarls and massive warg fights broke out all along the western side of the camp.

The wargs in the camp were caught off guard, and were being pushed back toward the center of what used to be the camp. But Ancalime could not make out the attackers, as all she could see were wargs fighting wargs in vicious, violent tassels. She, Sir Eric, and Lona stood around Alina, watching their captors being themselves ambushed. But these initial successes did not help them. The attacking wargs were still outnumbered, at least in the number of adults and the fit. A counter attack emerged as more wargs quickly charged over to the west side of the campsite and jumped into the fights.

The scouts on the outskirts of the camp immediately started for their comrades fighting the new attackers. Unknown to the rest, two died to plunging arrows as they turned their back on a tree where an archer lay hidden. Gothweniel deftly leaped to the ground and proceeded to shoot wargs heading back to the camp; hitting several as she ran, and at least one dropped dying. She noticed immediately that there were wargs fighting wargs. In particular, a large adult was fighting a smaller one, and she shot the larger one almost instinctively. The smaller one paid her no heed, and dived into the whirlwind of another nearby fight.

While these melee's swirled, from the rising sun, a completely different group of wargs charged in. This battle became immediately more confusing, as wargs piled into the back of the counter attack, and fights broke out on both sides of the small camp. But some of these wargs were clearly smaller or thinner than the ones that had captured them. Snarling whirlwinds of one-on-one and two-on-one fights broke out. While the newcomers were winning a few, they were also losing a few. And the enemy were charging in on them. It was a fight the new ambushers looked as if they would lose. What they didn't realize, that by attacking in the daylight, the bows of their enemy's enemy would have the advantage that tipped the tide.

Where the big warg scouts came in from two directions, the attacking group took the worst; But from the two directions where Gothweniel and Calådhiel came, it was the attackers who prevailed. Only one of the scouts in that direction actually made it into the fight, and by then it was outnumbered and fled. The attacking wargs ignored the charging archers who killed their foes, and continued attacking as many of the bigger wargs as they could. The elves for their part stopped shooting, as they could not tell friend from foe. Two wargs near the prisoners took arrows and fled.

The light was dim, it if a warg tried to charge them, or move near the group huddled by the downed tents did they loose arrows, and most could not continue with two of the long arrows buried in them at close range. Gothweniel used the confusion to run into the camp, hardly pausing to shoot a warg that came at her. Calådhiel hit it from a different angle and it collapsed. But her real target was the hooded man. She could hear him giving orders, and while she had just used her dagger to slash the binding from Ancalime, she stepped away to line up a well-aimed shot through the morning shadows.

But no sooner had she drawn her bow, then a large warg with a saddle on it bowled her over from the side. As she fought back desperately with her bow, as it tried to bite at her neck and face. Her hardened leather breastplate was worse for the wear, taking heavy gouges from it's front claws. As she was caught on the ground, an equally large warg launched onto the one on top of her. The new attacker missed its strike on its big target by just a little, but it took the saddled warg off of her. They both ran off. As she recovered, a clear shot did not present itself. She quickly ran over to Eric to free his hands. Handing him the dagger, he proceeded to free the others. Gothweniel took her bow to shoot any warg that moved toward them; Calådhiel was busy defending herself. A few turned away when faced with the large drawn bow. She often held her shot, as figuring out which targets to hit was hard in the dim morning light.

The hooded man yelled out in Goblin, "They are escaping." No sooner did he say this, than Gothweniel watched her sister's arrow skim past his ear, missing by less than an inch. Shaken, he hollered out something that sounded like a Goblin name. The warg with the saddle ran up, and as he mounted, she loosed an arrow that caught his leg, and appeared to pin him to the creature, or at least its saddle. They ran off to the North, but she had no opportunity to see it. Her attention shifted, she fitted another arrow just as a large warg grabbed her by the leg, flinging her across the clearing. As it jumped up to leap upon her, she watched it take an arrow from the side, and another large warg leaped up and intercepted it. Both came crashing down right next to her, her attacker landing on the arrow that had just been buried in its opposite side. Distracted by the shock and pain, the uninjured warg gained the advantage, clamped down on its neck and with a powerful full body shake, broke its neck.

Now armed, Eric and Ancalime mounted two of the saddled horses, and with spears and swords spurred them North in the direction that the Hooded Man had taken. All this while Alina and Lona stood over the still unconscious Nergel and Meneldor, armed with daggers, watching wargs run past them. Alina had two hands on Meneldor's broadsword, keeping the point out toward any comers. Lona retrieved her bow, and watched as at least a dozen wargs, some injured, ran off in the direction the saddled warg and others had just taken. "Hold" Calådhiel called out.

Calådhiel and Lona paused with bows drawn as most of the remaining wargs ran north. Eric and Ancalime returned on horseback; On the ground around them lay, at least a score or more dead, dying or wounded wargs. One was clearly a yearling; several others looked grey and gaunt. After taking a close look at Gothweniel's wound and helped her to dress it, he went over to Nergel and Meneldor being tended to by Lona and Alina. With so many wargs laying about, no one spoke; Finally Eric commented, "The ones that attacked us must have been hunting _them_. They have the little ones - and I'll bet they have the one with the limp."

From the ground where she sat holding her torn leg, Gothweniel added "Ones. There is more than one grandmother or grandfather among our rescuers. And among the dead." While her sister was busy binding her leg with some cloth recovered from the wreckage of their tent, she looked around, in wonder at the strange battlefield, now flooded with the morning light through the trees. She never in her life thought she would see a warg, and be thankful. And now she owed her life to one. Or more. Nervous and worried about her brother, Ancalime remained mounted and with the Calådhiel's direction gathered the horses. As they led them in, they picketed them close to where Meneldor and Nergel were still lying on the ground. A few mumbles from Alina indicated that the two figures seemed stable. Yet no one spoke. The peaceful quiet was strange, only disturbed by the rustle of the leaves and the occasional bird.

Eric took Lona's place on the ground with Nergel, while she and Calådhiel quietly moved about the battlefield. Finding a particularly young Warg, Lona bent down over it, stroking its fur as it lay dying on the ground. Her voice broke the silence, "This one is so small. Why would they be hunting their own kind?" Lona went around to look at the wounded. She stayed away from the big adults. But one was clearly an elderly female, her hind leg torn open and bleeding profusely. It turned and growled at her, trying to get away. Calådhiel spoke out in the guttural Goblin tongue, "Peace grandmother. She means no harm."

Lona looked at the wound, and asked in Elvish, "Ask her, 'May I clean it?'" Calådhiel, repeated this in Goblin expecting that it might understand. The grandmother lay there silent, and put its ears back in submission. Lona took her time, packing and binding the wound as best she could. The old girl started a few times, but permitted the work. Lona continued the dressing work, and hummed a peaceful melody to keep her calm.

Soon thereafter, the big warg that had attacked the saddled warg came back, with an equally large male leading a group of wargs of mixed ages and sexes. They stopped, watching Lona dressing the wounds of the old Warg. Lona backed away; For a moment, the campsite was very tense, the elves stood with bows drawn and watched; when they realized that this pack was not interested in them or their horses, they quickly stood down. Several in the group were no more than yearlings; youth really. More were full adults, and several more were adults very clearly past their prime. There were more females than males. They checked on some of the wounded, particularly the grandmother near Lona.

They grew a bit nervous as the two biggest Wargs, themselves clearly wounded, walked around the battlefield. A big female walked over and sniffed Gothweniel, then Calådhiel and muttered something in Goblin. Misunderstanding what she said, Calådhiel replied "Thanks" in Goblin. The wargish response was that of misunderstanding. She took another sniff, looked at her intently, and went back to her pack. They immediately dispatched one of the wounded adult wargs. They each licked at the blood that pooled by some of the wargs, but not all.

One or two wargs started licking the wounds of those they did not kill. Two of these soon died. Another seemed to be breathing still. Moved by compassion, Gothweniel limped over to see what she could do for it. Lona brought her some water and cloth to clean wounds. The live wargs standing around still seemed very menacing, even though most had wounds of some nature or another.

After a rather long period of awkward silence, Calådhiel started speaking in Goblin. Lona and Gothweniel chimed in. They talked to the warg pack about slaves, and how these Wargs were trying to take them as slaves. After some difficulty in translation, the reply was that 'Wargs don't have slaves; "G'Hochx" do.' When asked who the "G'Hochx" were, they again received quizzical looks. Eventually, following a wordless instruction, one of the older wargs walks up to a dead Warg. Nuzzling its backside, she invites the humans to look. Lona and Gothweniel follow her lead. On inspection, what they see is a scar that runs along the back of the left back leg. When the old warg sees that they understand, she says "G'Hochx." Then she points to the same spot on her leg. She has no such scar. Then she lays down and shows part of her underside near her ribs - and there is no hair there. "H'Chyal'ch" she mutters. She walks over to the nearest body, the one that the leader killed. "G'Hochx." It also has the scar. Gothweniel catches on - "Scar". These are the "Scars." You are not. "They are all the G'Hochx." She tries in Goblin.

The old warg nosed her bald spot. "H'Chyal'ch."

"You are all _H'Chyal'ch_ Bald... Baldies." She replies. Her unspoken look of understanding communicated more than her words. Watching her sister, Gothweniel guessed that this was the Alpha female of the pack. Another large male stood watching. She spoke from across the clearing in her best Wargish: "Thank you." The body motions were difficult. Calådhiel worked to bandage another willing Warg.

After a pause, Ancalime realized that some understanding had just taken place. She asked from atop her horse, "Aunt, what is going on? Why did they rescue us?"

"Why did you save us?" Calådhiel asked in Goblin. They received a lot of curious looks from the 'Baldies'. Gothweniel struggled to her knees and tried in Wargish, "Why attack the G'Hochx?" From the reply of the big female reply, which is slow to emerge, Calådhiel repeated in the human tongue, "They hunt us many days. They eat us. They force us from our dens."

Calådhiel tried again, "Why not attack us?"

It spoke. "Enemy my Enemy" was what Gothweniel repeated for everyone. "Maybe 'Foe of my foe.'"

Calådhiel continued, thankful that the 'Baldies' leaders were patient with the translation process she and her sister were working out. She noticed that the other wargs essentially surrounded them, leaving only the Alpha's and wounded wargs in the middle with the elves and humans. Noticeably, They stayed away from the very nervous horses. Clearly, either these wargs could kill them, or this was a council. She decided on the latter. "The G'Hochx are fleeing. Where will you go next?"

The Alpha male replied several different ways, and then finally in Goblin. Gothweniel translated, "Many dead. Much blood. _N'galth_ will be back. We find new home. Now, we hunt. Rest."

Calådhiel thought he was speaking more to the pack than to them. "What is _N'galth?"_ Calådhiel asked. It made a reply. All three elves looked puzzled.

"Evil wolf." Gothweniel translated the Alpha female's reply. Then she added the phrase "Evil Man."

As the three elves looked at each other, the Alpha male picked up on their confusion and added something in Goblin. Gothweniel translated it to " _N'galth_ leads _G'Hochx_." Everyone heard the two words clearly. Calådhiel then repeated for all, "No sister, I think the translation would be, " The _N'galth_ _commands_ The _G'Hochx._ The Scar pack. That is the verb they used with their Goblin masters in the dark times." Lona agreed.

Eric still astride his horse with Ancalime asked, "Ask them why The _G'Hochx_ would attack the _H'Chyal'ch_. It still does not make sense. They're describing a civil war that's turned into fratricide. Into a war of extermination."

Seeing the pain in Calådhiel's face, Lona took up the challenge, speaking in Goblin. "Why did _G'Hochx_ leave many dead and spill much _H'Chyal'ch_ blood?"

The Alpha female now replied. Lona translated. "We have no commands. Not follow N'galth. We not eat the people. We follow the Warg way. We fight to die." Lona hesitated with the last phrases. Gothweniel added, "What she said is hard to translate. I'm not sure that's right."

Calådhiel then spoke in Goblin, bowing her head to the two big Alphas, "You seek a new home." She paused to see a motion of agreement. "There are elves in the deep woods to the west. Avoid them. They will hunt you. There are people to the east. Avoid them. They will hunt you. South of the deep woods, there is a broader unclaimed space. There the bear and the deer still roam."

"Thank you." She added in Wargish, and this time Lona and Gothweniel made the motions with her.

With a nod from the Alpha Male, the H'Chyal'ch all stood, even their wounded. They left silently, heading south east. Many limping were among them and a few had bandages courtesy of the elves. The bandages would make their trail harder to follow, unlike that of their enemies.

Nergel had started to stir before the 'Baldies' left. Through his headache, he watched the interchange with Lona, Gothweniel and Calådhiel. When the wargs finally left, he sat up, involuntarily holding his head. Alina went over to help him. Back with Nergel's horse and Sir Eric, Ancalime dismounted to check on her still-prostrate brother.

The rest of the party breathed a sigh of relief. Calådhiel explained to the rest what the wargs had said before they left. "So our rescuers, the 'Baldies,' were the ones the Scars were tracking, and we were tracking the Scars who had been tracking them."

Ancalime added, "And they ambushed us, only to be ambushed in turn by the creatures they were hunting."

The irony of her statement was not lost. She knelt down to check on her younger brother. His head was bruised, but he was clearly breathing easily. Not knowing what else to do, she sat with his head in her lap praying over him the prayers of light that her Aunt's had taught her. Alina followed Ancalime's example and started bathing Nergel's wounds. He certainly appreciated the attention. He now very much regretted taking off his helmet when his watch had ended.

A long silence followed her statement. The difficulty was that they were all in a state of shock; even Calådhiel, who prided herself on her ability to be stoic in all settings, could not believe what had just come to pass. Those she thought her foes had saved them; they could easily have killed them all, even her, but instead protected them. And Lona and Gothweniel had been treated as friends; allowed to touch end dress wounds, even spoken too gently. Her mind wandered with a smile through the thought that anything in Wargish or Orcish could be gentle. Yet the creatures, especially the Alpha Female had been patient, almost respectful with Gothweniel and herself. She busied herself cleaning and bandaged Gothweniel's leg.

Seeing that Nergel appeared able to rise, Alina finally spoke up, struggling to find her voice after so much terror and bloodshed. "It's a great mercy that they did."

She paused. "I thought we were all going to die or worse." The hesitancy in her voice made it clear she that was struggling to speak.

After another long pause, Eric added, "It was a civil war. I wonder what started it? This N'Gath or N'Galth thing must be really terrible. Like us, they've travelled for days and days to get here."

Gothweniel spoke from the ground, "I'm sorry - they came from upwind; with the wind moving in the trees they were hard to hear. They already began their attack before I realized what was happening. I should have done better."

Eric replied, "Don't feel badly, dear lady; It was that same wind that kept The Scars from hearing the Baldies when they attacked us. You at least killed one before they took us. That is more than I was able to do. You, Nergel and Calådhiel each killed one before they got us. I'm surprised you two were able to avoid capture at all. It's a really good thing that you did." He looked around at the dead wargs surrounding them, mentally counting the arrows. "I don't think the Baldies would have won the field without your intervention."

Calådhiel spoke up next, "It makes no difference. You were all captured while we stood off and watched for an opportunity. The one surprise was where the opportunity came from. I thought they were hunting other wargs, but I did not think their prey was that close."

Eric added, "Its a good thing they were. They must have smelled the blood. Those three we killed, and the few we wounded were bleeding all over the place, and the Baldies came from downwind. The breeze surely carried the scent. Thankfully they came."

Ancalime noted to herself how well-thought that conclusion was, and Sir Eric went up a notch in her tally. She continued the thought "I think they wanted blood."

She continued, "From what you translated, I did not get the impression they expected any of them to walk away from that fight. Even the children and aged came. And died." She paused herself to look down on the several grayed wargs, and a big pup among the dead. Despite how ugly they were, and how evil looking, she felt sorrow for them, and thanks for their sacrifice. "Some of them did not stand a chance. Anyway, we need to feed the horses. This is not a safe place to linger. And we need to collect our arrows if we can."

She was right. Nods and action followed. Eric's and Nergel's wounds should have been much worse than they were. Their armor and padding clearly protected them from the worst of the fangs and teeth. But it took a while for Meneldor to come to. Ancalime, now that she was done with the horses, looked after him, cradling his head and wiping his bruises with a damp cloth. Lona correctly pointed out that Gothweniel's clothes were rent badly. She and Alina took to mending, as she could not. Once they were sufficiently done, Ancalime asked Gothweniel to take her place working with her brother so that she could help the others load the horses. She agreed, as standing to work horses and tack seemed to be a bad idea. They left Nergel to sit and rest, and occasionally help with little things. Walking and bending were painful for him. After helping to load the horses, Lona stood watch. As the morning dew burned off, Meneldor finally woke up, and they finished cleaning up the last of the arrows worth salvaging.

As they went about their work cleaning up the battle site and the mess that had been their camp, They started a quiet discussion. Now that they knew what the warg tracks meant, Calådhiel, Gothweniel and later Lona each shared what they had heard the scars discuss to make sure they heard correctly. With Eric's impetus, they start piecing together the clues they had overheard.

Clearly some of the individuals from Scar pack had been part of the original taking of Adan, Aaron and their escort. They said that they took silver, or jewelry, along with an elf. They also admitted that they took people from the search parties. This all corresponds to what Lady Alina had indicated. They were prisoners, probably slaves somewhere in the Northern Mountains. This left strange names, such as "Queen Dwin" and "N'galth" or "The N'galth _"_ as unknown terms. The use of the word _N'galth_ they still couldn't agree was being used a name or a noun or both. The "Man" and "Wolf" aspects were also not clear. There was a man clearly commanding the Scars, though. And they wounded him, which helped to precipitate their retreat.

When they were done, Ancalime made the very practical suggestion that they should seek real shelter and soon, as they had almost no food, three injured, and were exhausted. Perhaps they should retreat to the southwest and find some hospitality and rest. With luck, it would likely be less than 20 miles to the nearest village. If the 'Baldies' were moving deeper into the wilds to rest, eat and lick their wounds, perhaps a similar strategy would be good for them. With luck they might be at a village by nightfall if they moved quickly; and the further they get from this warg blood, the sooner they might find some game. They all agreed. They left at a fast walk, trying to get away from the glen of their double ambush.

This time, Lona and Calådhiel took turns searching for signs of human activity, especially looking for signs of hunters, gatherers or woodcutters. The long ride left each a bit despondent, either time brooding over their mistakes, or for the recognition of just how close to death - or worse they just came. For Nergel and Meneldor it was a long, difficult ride. By afternoon, they found some hopeful signs, and they paused to eat the last remnants of their food. By nightfall, they found a track that lead them out into broken country. Now able to go at an even faster pace, they used the last of the daylight, and they eventually found a few houses. Stopping at the nearest house, Eric made inquiries, and got directions to the nearest village. It took them a few more miles south and west, but the hope of rest and hot food brightened all of their moods.

When they got to the village, it was dark; they went straight to what looked like a small inn. It was a very happy moment, as the sun was now fully set, and lights shown from the building. The hope of help, food and friendly faces warmed them all, even the tired horses. Meneldor and Gothweniel were both the worse for the wear, and Ancalime seemed like a ghost in the saddle she was so tired. When they dismounted, Eric called for help from the stable hands. And they are were very thankful that N'Galth or The N'Gath or whatever the man was called didn't take their money, only their food.

The promise of rest and security of being under a roof again did them all well. Nergel, despite his headache, carried Ancalime in, and Eric did the same for Gothweniel. Calådhiel and Lona helped Meneldor from the saddle, and with directions from the innkeeper, got him to a room. Taking the remains of the evening to enjoy hot food helped to lift their spirits.

After some food, drink and well-earned rest, the last order of business around the candlelight was to write two letters, one to send to Beninion in the Greenwood, and one to Eldecar in Dale to let their families know that they were alive and well. They were careful to communicate nothing about what they had found out for fear of the message being captured, but that they were all alive and well. They arranged to pay for couriers to leave in the morning.

With the amount of silver coin they flashed, service was instantly available. After a slow morning, they agreed that they would stay several days. The Elves took to the woods nearby, resting quietly, especially Gothweniel. The humans stayed in the village, and attracted a lot of attention, for it was not often, if ever, that knights and beautiful ladies of Dale and the South had visited their humble village on the edge of the wilds. The good silver coins making their way into the local economy didn't hurt either.

Alina felt odd being treated as nobility, but Ancalime made no move to correct them. It struck her that she should have. Alina in particular drew attention as the tallest woman they had ever seen, and the villagers thought her a great lady. The ladies in particular were the most mobile, and spent time each day walking and visiting with the three elves.

With help from Ancalime, Lona and Calådhiel spent their first full day mending, first Gothweniel's clothes, and then mending and re-fletching some of their old arrows, eventually shifting to constructing new ones. Alina enjoyed helping with the clothing, but later she just watched and kept them company. She tried talking but found it difficult. Eventually Ancalime asked her how she was doing. "Poorly. I have not been able to sleep; I keep waking up dreaming of dead wargs, and fighting." Putting down what she was working on, Calådhiel reached out to take her hand. She gave her tall companion a disarming smile, "that's not all, though, is it my lady."

Looking down, Alina added, "No, I feel so helpless. Or maybe useless."

This time it was Lona who replied. "No, I am the one who was useless. I should have been fighting, but I was too slow. It would have been my fault if we had died."

Ancalime answered, "Lady Lona, you were no slower than I. We are both at fault. And my brother paid the price."

Calådhiel spoke next. "We were all were under-prepared. I as much as any. We had no idea there were that many wargs in either group. We mistook the H'Chyal'ch to be the enemy, where it was the G'Hochx who were the real enemy. But we were spared because of their greed. And we now know significantly more about what happened to our brothers. Had the N'Galth not been interested in having us as slaves, we would all be dead, and the H'Chyal'ch probably as well."

She paused to really look at her friends. Lona looked well, but both Ancalime and Alina looked worn in body and spirit. "We just played a very important role in a war we did not even know was being fought. We don't know why the H'Chyal'ch attacked when they did, but they were very clearly prepared to die in that fight. Several gave up their lives just so that the others could flank them. But they clearly were thankful for us. We turned the tide. For all of our mistakes, it was the blood Nergel spilled that drew them, and it was our arrows that gave them the advantage." She then echoed the sentiment the Alpha Female had spoken: "Those who are not against us are for us. "

Alina smiled, but her head dropped. She still felt useless. Calådhiel reached out and touched her chin, lifting her eyes to hers. She thought to herself how young she was, yet so special in a way that she couldn't quite put words to. "Alina. We would not be here were it not for you. And you foresaw this ambush, and it was our mistake not to heed the warning so clearly given. Even now, if your disturbing dream is to be believed, then we will live to fight them again. And Ancalime will lead armed men into battle. You, _mellon_ , are the reason we can have hope that our brothers are alive, and that this is much bigger than any of us, and that we still have a key role to play. You are not useless, you are essential. And I am thankful to have met you."

Alina looked up into her deep blue eyes, and saw the truth in what this elven lady spoke; she looked over to Lona, and to Ancalime, and saw the gentle smiles, even through Ancalime's worn face. Remembering Gothweniel's words spoken to her when they first met, she said, "The Lady speaks the truth. There is no falsehood in her. I guess; I must accept her word." With smiles, A warm embrace followed. They all slept well that night.

Nergel, Gothweniel and Meneldor rested. Several days also did the horses well, as they spent time in an open pasture, away from the woods and wargs with plenty of water and grass. Village boys earned copper coins taking them for walks. They argued over who would get to take the two big war horses around.

When on their third day and all were able to participate, they gathered after a good breakfast and considered their evidence. It was clear that the Scars were involved in the kidnapping affair, but it was very not clear as to why or how. The N'galth seemed to be in the middle of the mystery. The evidence pointed to their brothers and their escort having been captured and carried directly north, but where was unknown. They could guess to the northern mountains, but that was a huge area. One opportunity was to track some Scars north, but that had already proven to be rather dangerous. Trying to get more information from the Baldies seemed useful, but not clear how useful. Capturing and questioning a Scar might also be useful. After reflecting on the plight of the Baldies, they agreed that this approach probably had the most should know where in the North the Scars are, and might know where they took or held their prisoners. Alina's sense that her brother was still alive remained strong. This conviction added to their deliberations that they still had some time to find out more. With a clear plan, they all set to preparations.

Eric, ever intrigued by people, took time to question Lona. He had noticed that she very often kept to herself, and often volunteered for work that meant she was alone. She watched over Alina constantly, and had been working with her these many weeks teaching her the skills of the forest, and riding. He asked her how she came to know Alina and her family.

"Oh, it is really a family connection. My father supported her father when he was young and just starting his business, and father really liked his work, and they became friends. Adan and I spent a lot of time with Mark and his wife, especially when they were young, so we've been close friends and helping their business for these last 20 years. That is a long time by human standards."

Eric sensed there was more to the story. "Why, My Lady, did you both choose to spend so much time in Mark's household in Dale? That must have seemed ... quite different from your home in the Greenwood."

She continued, "Well, Yes it was different." She paused, as Alina was listening. "We were quite welcome there. As you have noticed, like Gothweniel, I am quite tall for my people. In their home, I was always welcome, and never tall. Never out-of-place. And Alina and her mother Jenna have been my best friends these many years."

Knowing about the loss of her mother, he knew she was simplifying a more complicated tale. He did not have the heart to press for more. Nergel rescued him from the awkward conversation. "And that has to be a source of joy. There's nothing more important than family." Ancalime, Alina and Lona all looked at the usually-silent Nergel with the same puzzled look, recognizing how well-spoken he had just been. Lona replied, "Yes, that is what brought us all here in the first place."

Eric spent time hiring the local blacksmith to fashion a 'bear trap'. After the first one worked, he ordered several, and finally left the shop and gave the fellow time to work on them. The ladies mended the tents and washed and mended their clothing. Nergel and Meneldor did the same with the tack and armour, and the light activity did them both well.

With the traps tested and stored, food and supplies purchased, and the horses and tack set to, they headed south and east, back into the deep woods. If signs of the Scars appeared, it would be their turn to hunt, and this time they would be much better prepared.


	5. Chapter 5:Good Help is Hard to Find

**Chapter 5: Good Help is Hard to Find**

Nergel had a lot of time to think while he was resting in the village All of his needs were cared for, as Eric saw to it that he had had food and drink, and made him get plenty of rest and just enjoy the good company. He slept a lot, much more than he thought he would. He particularly appreciated the ladies' visits. Ancalime and Alina were quite attentive, and both made it a point at different visits to thank him for his bravery the night they were captured.

When he was around, he thought about his family. He wondered what his father would think if he got killed while on such a spurious journey. When he and Eric had first started on this, he was so taken with the beautiful women; and then over the first few days was just amazed at their skill and fortitude- particularly Ancalime. The bits of the mystery that they'd found so far seemed so outrageous. Wargs capturing people? He'd never even heard of a Warg, and now they were preparing to find and talk with some. Yet the trail that had led them to this point seemed like a clear set of breadcrumbs that they had to follow.

Resting did allow his mind to wander. He had always found it strange that while almost identical in age, he had been taller than Eric his whole life. Now he was almost a foot taller and nearly double his weight. But since they were kids, they had been through thick and thin together. He never really understood how they had become friends in the first place, or why his mother had been part of their community in Ithillian. But Eric stayed his friend long after he was recognized by his father, after he was knighted, and ever since. They'd been through so much together. Training together, and eventually several campaigns against the Southrons and such came to mind, but the real glue between them had been more the quiet things, like sailing and building a boat together. He'd never met someone sharper, or as quick with their hands - or as graceful until this journey had begun. Even now he was busy getting his giant bear traps built at the village smith's workshop. He smiled to himself reflecting how the two daughters of Vanesse were certainly his equals - the tiny Calådhiel was just as smart, and more experienced. And Gothweniel with the flaming red hair was his match in speed and grace and then some. It was so strange that these past many days, to see Eric seem like a normal person, one who just fit in, not sticking out. Not in command but being listened to, part of the troop not leading. Like himself. But the most odd part was that he seemed to like the new role not always being the star.

Nergel's thoughts turned to himself. He too was someone who was used to sticking out. In most places, he was the quiet giant, and certainly here too. Often translating Eric's lofty plan into something everyone could follow. But with Meneldor and these women, Alina changed that - she was tall and quiet like himself, not given to idle talk like most women he knew. She played that role too. And he could not believe her courage to even go on this trip. She was so terrified after their capture she could hardly speak, but she never gave up, or gave in. Her love and concern for her brother was so admirable; to himself he thought that to be loved and cared for by such a woman was beyond his dreams. How could such a beautiful and gentle woman, even if she was but a tall whisp of a creature - how could she come to care for him? Yet she spent time with him, and talked with him. Since they got to the village, she'd bought yarn and was making him new stockings. Maybe there was room for hope. But they had to survive this first. And find her brother; hopefully alive.

It was a lot to ponder; especially knowing that they'd be leaving soon to go find the rogue pack that had saved them from the Scars. Given all he'd heard from Eric about what they'd learned, he was looking forward to the adventure; even hopeful of success. They now had an objective. But knowing to go to a mountain chain, and knowing where in the mountain chain to go were very different things. They needed help. But would the H'Chyal'ch or whatever they called themselves really help?

Once they left the comfort of the village they headed west. They took with them fresh provisions, full feed bags, extra rope and the metal traps that Eric and the smiths had wrought. Eric wanted for writing materials to record their journey, but found none. Their goal was to reach the forests on the borders of the Greenwood, and return to tracking. Once there, it took them several days of hard riding to locate the Baldies' trail. Their searching did not uncover signs of the Scars, but they suspected that at least a scout group would have been sent to follow the Baldies. They stayed on their guard as they followed the trails leading to the H'Chyal'ch.

As they closed on the location of the pack, they kept their distance. Gothweniel and Calådhiel approached the H'Chyal'ch cautiously, careful to move in from downwind. The two kept a safe distance from each other, looking for the pack. Finally, clearing a wooded ridge, Gothweniel spotted a lone immature warg, one she actually recognized - it was the one she helped after the battle. While still a pup, the creature was still well over 100 pounds. Apparently it spotted her as well, as it signaled recognition and charged at her. With a tree behind her that she could quickly climb, she took the risk to not draw a weapon. The ugly creature, showing no signs of stopping, but also no signs of attack, all but knocked her down, jumping up to lick, and otherwise greet her. Gothweniel could not suppress her laughter, even though the pup was so big and ugly. Hearing the strange noise echo loudly through the trees, Ancalime broke ranks and crested the hill on her horse with a spear in hand. She paused, and smiled, telling Gothweniel teasingly in Sindarin "I'm going to tell your brother!" The others followed her. Witnessing the strange and unexpected play, they all smiled, seeing this as a good sign.

Gothweniel managed to communicate with the warg, and asked him to lead her to his mother. That took a little time, but they crested yet another wooded ridge. Near a stream at the bottom, an adult warg stepped out. It was an adult female, but not the Alpha. Lona tried speaking, but obviously botched her Goblin speech, as the Warg put down its muzzle, and shook just its face, looking up at her again inquisitively. She had made it laugh in their silent way. Gothweniel corrected, and they got the sense that they may come and address them.

The female explained that there was a stream downhill of their location and that some of the pack would meet there early in the morning. That they should rest there too. The group planned to do this, but it required keeping the horses father away, something that Meneldor volunteered to do, having had more than his fair share of wargs recently. For him, thinking hard and bright lights still hurt. They stay a few hundred yards away, upwind, over a ridge.

Since the rest of the group was still behind them over the last ridge, the warg pup went back with his mother to sit. The party goes down to stream bed to bed down together with the wargs. When morning comes, they carry on a slow conversation about hunting the G'Hochx who are hunting them. They ask how do they know that the G'Hochx are still hunting them. Calådhiel replied that they would not stop. They would lick their wounds and return for the kill. Only this time they could both have their vengeance on the G'Hochx.

With some agreement, they ask them about the prisoners of the G'Hochx. They indicate that the H'Chyal'ch have no prisoners, the G'Hochx do. They ask if they know where the prisoners are, and they indicate that they are at the "two peaks" in the north. They ask if they will help them find the prisoners, and they get no reply. But they agreed to hunt the G'Hochx who were seeking them. Eric explained his plan to ambush the G'Hochx if they can. But they would need help from the H'Chyal'ch. Gothweniel translated.

Two smaller wargs, roughly 1/2 sized volunteered. They walked up to Gothweniel for the opportunity to lick the blood of their enemies, if the horse people, would hunt too.

They packed up camp. Eric was at the front with the two immature wargs, who were eager for the hunt. Gothweniel stayed on horseback to keep up with Eric and the Wargs, and to keep the horse from bolting. Lona and Calådhiel spent time covering their tracks. With both working hard to catch up. It took two days, but when the two finally found a scent, they immediately made a plan to lead the Scars to an ambush.

They spent some time carefully looking for the best area they to use for the ambush. The best that they found was an area where there was brush in the middle and around but had an open space; this would permit the setting of Eric's four metal traps, and perhaps a few snares that would be hard to see. Then they could go through the open space, and lure the Scars into the kill zone.

Once this was set. They worked quickly, and moved the horses downwind, and behind a rise in the ground so they could charge in. They wanted to do as much of the action as possible from horseback, as being on foot would put the Wargs at too big of an advantage. Everyone hid. With help from the two wargs (it turns out they are twins), a false trail is set. The goal was to capture at least one.

The task of finding the Scars was left to Calådhiel and the two young wargs. They went at a run to follow the scouting party 's trail. It took some time, but they found a trail that they could believe was the Scars'. A young warg went fast, with the goal of catching their attention, and fleeing, forcing the Scars to chase him, or give their position and numbers to their enemy. Calådhiel climbed a tree to be able to support with her bow. The two H'Chyal'ch worked hard to stay ahead. The hunting party turned out to be small - only nine adults.

With the trap set, the bait ran through the danger zone, and skipped past the brush. They turned and waited where they could be seen by the nine Scars. A few tense moments were followed by a metallic snap. The trap was sprung, and the small clearing became a battleground.

The archers, waiting downwind, moved the few feet to their firing positions and all fired, as did Calådhiel from behind them. Among the men, swords, axe and shields came out, and they charged the clearing. With one caught in a metal trap, four of the remaining eight wargs were immediately injured. Another metallic snap was soon heard as the three men came charging in.

Following immediately behind Eric, Alina fell off her horse as it jumped a downed log. While Eric and Meneldor engaged their quarry, Nergel was immediately behind her, reined in quickly, stopping his big horse short. He jumped off his horse and picked up Alina. It was but a single motion for him to scoop her off the ground and place her astride his horse.

One of the injured wargs tried to leap at him on the ground, but he deflected it with his shield, and standing between the mounted Alina and the Warg pulled his axe from his belt and cleaved it open. Two others tried to go after them, but one was quickly cut down by arrows. She held onto his horse as it stood next to him and reared, flailing its hooves at a Warg that tried to get at them from the rear. It backed from the vicious hooves, only to be dropped by two arrows. To Nergel's surprise and Alina's horror, the other right in front of Nergel was caught by the two immature wargs who gave it no quarter. One smaller warg leaped onto it, biting the arrow embedded in its flank, and as it turns in pain to get at him, his twin leaps at his exposed throat. Ripped open, and unable to breath, they leaped clear to let it thrash about and die.

Ancalime, Lona and Gothweniel stayed on the outskirts, up on their horses, and after the first flight, start calling targets as they continued shooting. Two wounded wargs fled the trap, only to be run down by Eric and Meneldor on horseback. Two were left caught in the snares. One was dead, having died from two arrow wounds, its blood pooled on the ground. Of those that attacked, there was only the one survivor.

Eric roped the beast, followed by Calådhiel. With the ropes on their saddles, they pulled in opposite directions forcing the Warg to the ground. Speaking in the Goblin tongue, Calådhiel commanded it to stop fighting. It eventually did. Staying strictly out of its lunging distance, she questioned the prisoner.

Are you G'Hochx? _Yes_.

How many G'Hochx? _Many several severals_

Who is leader? _N'galth_.

Where is N'galth? _No answer._

Why do you follow H'Chyal'ch? _Rebels deserve death._

Do you have any people prizes? _Several still._

Where did you take others? _Sold_.

Where are they sold? _Northern mountains._

Where in the North? _No Answer._

How many scouting parties hunt H'Chyal'ch? _Pair of pairs._

The information gained was challenging; assuming it was not smart enough to lie, they considered their options. Decisions to be considered. Clearly, they should ride north, to the Northern Mountains. The difficulty was getting there, and finding where in the mountains. This could take weeks or months. They could return to the Greenwood, report to the King, and seek companies of archers to do this. But this would take weeks too, and who knew how long the king might take to decide. And it meant that their efforts would become known in Dale, if not further abroad, which they were trying to avoid.. And up in the northern mountains, winter comes early. They would only have so many weeks. And every day they waited could mean the loss of Aaron and his comrades.

They decided that the best option would be to go with H'Chyal'ch wargs, and see if they could confide in them. If they could beg of them a guide, it would just take the time to get there. And they just had a very successful hunt, and had succeeded in putting greater distance between the G'Hochx and the H'Chyal'ch. The shortest path to follow was the eastern route, but with the knowledge that there are at least three more G'Hochx hunting parties, and probably a main party of G'Hochx as well they decided that while it would be too dangerous.

Making the decision to find and seek the help of the H'Chyal'ch, they stopped to clean up the mess, recover arrows, and pack up the G'Hochx prisoner. Using ropes, they bound the prisoner, muzzled it, and lashed it to a pole. Once immobilized, They also bound the wounds on its legs.

They spent the remainder of the day heading south. As evening come, they set up camp. The small went on, with the intent of coming back to tell where they could meet the H'Chyal'ch. They decided that they were close enough to the southeastern border of the Greenwood, that there may be border patrols nearby. They moved a few miles due west, closer to the plateau that defined the kingdom' border. Periodically, one of the three elves gave a bird call, in the hopes of signaling a patrol to find them.

On their second day heading west and south from the ambush site, Calådhiel found more warg tracks, probably H'Chyal'ch. Later that afternoon, on one of the elven bird calls, they actually got a distant response. As they moved, the recognition call went back and forth.

Ancalime and Gothweniel rode over to the other side of ridge, and a Greenwood elf greeted them. With surprise and great joy, a brief polite exchange ensued. The scout and Gothweniel recognized that they had actually met before. They took him over the ridge, and this forester saw their G'Hochx prisoner, bound and suspended between two horses. As they walked slowly west, he addressed Calådhiel and Gothwenial. He told them that they had also been seeking after wargs. Evidence of wargs to the east and north had been found, and the news had spread around the border guards. More foresters were on the borders east and north. After hearing their tale, he seemed a little torn. They showed them the mark on the prisoner, and they explained that the G'Hochx would only be adults, while the old and young were with the H'Chyal'ch, and that they should avoid destroying H'Chyal'ch if they could. They asked him to pass on that request.

But it took Calådhiel's insistence, backed by Lona and Gothweniel, before he gave them his word that he would try to warn the other elves that not all wargs are the same, and to try to prevent them from immediately killing the H'Chyal'ch who had saved them from the G'Hochx. He departed to the north, more puzzled than when he met them.

After another day's travel, Gothweniel went ahead with Lona to check how close they might be to the H'Chyal'ch pack. The little wargs did a greeting dance, greeting Gothweniel as their 'Mistress'. With the juveniles to lead them, they immediately picked up the pace. Periodically they paused the wargs to let the horses rest. At one of these short breaks to dismount and walk, they explained their need for guides to the two young wargs. They replied that after their victory over the G'Hochx hunters, they still wanted to hunt.

They also explained that they would go a different way to the H'Chyal'ch resting place. It took time to get there. It was a cautious greeting, but then they are able to approach the friendly wargs. The mistress comes up. They heard their request and decided to do an exchange. For the humans' help finding safe passage, they will find them a guide to take them to the G'Hochx dens in the north.

They then turned to the matter of the prisoner. At the word of the Alpha male, they were warned that the G'Hochx they brought must be judged by their law. Hunting of wargs by wargs is forbidden, and he must pay the penalty. The party found this awkward. As evil and ugly as he was, he was still a prisoner of war. They answered the pack leader, saying that they would consider their request, and give them an answer in a few days. After making arrangements to contact each other, they departed the meeting place.

They moved north to find a good site to camp, rest, hunt and consider what their actions should be.

Recognizing that their rules did not apply, they decided that G'Hochx will have to face the judgement of his people. But the complication would be as to how to help them find refuge. After all, they were the equivalent of a pack of giant wolves. They might be able to keep to themselves, but they would have to be in wild areas, far from settlements, and have to have some sort of treaty relationship to keep them from just being hunted to extinction. That would be a lot to come up with.

Their immediate thoughts were that there were lands south of the Greenwood that were still wild and unsettled. Perhaps the humans there could be persuaded to not just hunt these H'Chyal'ch. That would mean turning south, and then negotiating. They would probably need the prisoner as evidence that the wargs were real, and different from each other. They did have the advantage that unlike the elves, these men would have no living memory of Wargs, only tales and legends, so they might be able to give them a different impression of these creatures.

All of this was quite a bit to contemplate. Listening to the discussion, Meneldor who often saw himself as very much the junior member, saw an opportunity to distinguish himself, and volunteered to ride south and bring back some leaders to them. And if not, he would be back in three days time. They agreed, and he took extra food for him and his horse. With some counsel from Eric on what and how to negotiate, and a blessing from his sister, he departed for parts South before nightfall.

The next morning they were hailed at their camp by another group of elves. This group had heard the scout's tale from days ago, and went to find them and assist. Clearly they were interested in the idea of a warg prisoner. They were even more interested at the notion of warg-to-warg justice, for they thought these as mere beasts, only semi-intelligent and tools of the Goblins who controlled them. They also enjoyed the tale of their capture and rescue.

Their visitors also explained that many of the search parties would be moving this way to check on them. After sharing a meal, and closely inspecting the prisoner, they left again. Much to the surprise of all, this repeated itself each morning for three days. For the few days they were with them, these Elves treated Gothweniel, Calådhiel and Lona like princesses. They very much appreciated having the company, and the good provisions that they brought with them didn't hurt either.

For the Elven visitors, a pattern quickly emerged. Once they were dismissed from their orders, they would watch the Scar prisoner. Then they would spend time with Gothweniel showing off and working with the twins, who would sometimes try to talk with them, and relate how they'd killed Scars who'd killed their father. Their Elven visitors would scatter, and some would just relax, others would talk with the men, but inevitably they would spend time with Alina and Ancalime. Ancalime fascinated them as she spoke Sindarin, and acted somewhat Elven in her manner; Alina for her height and mild demeanor.

On one of these visits, a group of visitors spent time with Alina. One of them, an ageless woman named Tinnuviel sat next to her as she was busy knitting the last of the new stockings for Nergel.

"Why did you choose such fine wool for this piece?"

Alina answered as she might with her mother at home, continuing to work as she spoke. "We spent several days recuperating at a village. This is what one of the village women had to sell; they seemed so anxious to please us, but I think they very much needed the money. She was such a kind lady; I got her to tell me all about her children, and her grandchild. She wanted two copper for a skein; I offered her four. Yarn like this usually sells for that at home. She wanted gave me a second for that price. I wound up getting three for ten coins. " Alina paused to look at the armed woman listening. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bore you."

"No young lady, you are far from boring. I find your approach, and your pattern you are working on quite fascinating. But let me understand, you paid her more than she wanted because the price she wanted wasn't fair?"

Alina paused to think of her response. "No, well, I guess so. I didn't think of it that way. I just wanted to give her a fair wage for her fine work."

"But the woman would have been happy for two coins. And from what I see, you are almost to the end of the skein and the project. You certainly didn't need three skeins. "

"Yes, but her work was worth more than two coins. And I, having the coins she needed, was in a position of power over her. That means I have the responsibility of ensuring that the trade is fair for all parties, not just for me. And besides, this yarn is worth 12-15 copper coins at home. If I carry these home, I might make most of my money back."

"Where did you learn this, young one?"

"From my mother and father. That is how my father deals with his workers and suppliers."

"He buys and sells?"

"Some. He crafts fine metal. As does my brother."

"I see that you craft as well. The pattern in your knitting is a strong one, and should hold up very well. But that is a very big set of hose you are making. For whom are they intended?"

"Nergel - the tall man from Dol Amroth."

"Yes, the one with the accent."

It took Alina a minute to realize that Tinnuviel was speaking of his Sindarin, not his Westron speech. "Yes. When we washed his hose in the village, I realized that he did not have a spare set, so I thought I would make him some. And to be honest, I am just being selfish. I want for something productive to do. Especially when we are camped, I still feel so useless."

"Why would that be?"

I can not fight or shoot - I can barely ride. I thought I could, but I nearly was killed when we went to capture this Scar. I slipped off the saddle just as we were closing the ambush on the Scars. Nergel had to dismount to protect me, and he nearly was killed." Her mind drifted a bit back to those moments; it was a strange sensation to be swept off the ground, and immediately put back on a horse high off the ground. She felt gratitude - a gratitude she really couldn't describe. And a bit of shock; she was shaking when he planted her upon his own horse.

She'd never really been rescued like that before, like in the tales of romance that the bards would sing at parties. The thought rang clear that Nergel's story would be sung by a bard someday. She couldn't shake that sensation either.

Responding to her voice, not necessarily her thoughts, the Elven woman continued. "He does not appear injured, beyond the bruises on his head. And those are certainly more than a week old. What do you mean that he was 'nearly killed?'"

"Oh, I guess I was exaggerating a little. He was the only one of us who fought on foot, and that was because of my mistake."

"These things are normal in battle. You should try to get used to these unexpected circumstances. I sometimes meet people who think they control their destiny. But this is never true. We can only influence it. This is equally true in a peaceful domestic life, and more so with the journey you have chosen."

Alina paused her work."I guess you are right." She noticed that the border elves around her were also paying close attention, she realized that Tinnuviel must be someone old or famous.

"Trust me young one, once you step outside your door, you have no idea where the path may lead. To think that there is not a greater plan or meaning to the time and events we are a part of is foolish pride. To think that we are just pawns in the hands of fate is equally foolish. That that young man was there to defend you was exactly as it was to happen, and how it did happen. Yours, and our task is to be thankful for it."

She paused, and noticing that Alina had paused her knitting, she added, "Which you have been doing with your fingers, if not your mind. That is a fine gift, one crafted with care."

The conversation shifted to other things, and Alina finished her knitting. While she reflected on the lesson she had just heard, her visitors thought to themselves how impressed they were with the humility and wisdom of one so young.

Eventually another of the visitors asked her about the dagger at her belt. When she mentioned that her father had made it with his workmen, they asked her if she knew how to use it. She admitted that she didn't. Two of her visitors then offered to spend time training her. They were patient instructors. Afterward, Lona and Calådhiel continued working with her on sword and dagger training, as well as practice managing a sword from the saddle. Her long reach made her a little more dangerous, and Calådhiel and the visitors spent time over the next few days showing her how to take advantage of it.

A fourth day came, and Meneldor still did not return. Ancalime was worried, but Nergel and Calådhiel reminded her that he was quite capable for a youngster. If he was late it would be for good reason. But the time to meet with the H'Chyal'ch pack was approaching. They would have to leave on the next day if they were to meet at the agreed spot.

Ancalime spent part of the day alone with Gothweniel. They found a small grove away from their campsight and guests, and sat on a huge downed tree. They sat together, lookin g out at the small sunny clearing that the tree had made in its fall.

"Aunt, I am worried beyond telling. This waiting is killing me. I don't know what to do with myself."

"What do you have to worry about? Meneldor will be fine. I think the time on his own will do him well. He seems to be acting more and more like a real squire every day."

"It's not him; this dread of what happened to Aldarion and Aearion that plagues me day and night. The thought of being around these evil creatures day and night tears at me."

Gothweniel looked at her 'niece' carefully, and read the worry on her face. She still carried the same fatigue and fear from their capture nearly two weeks ago. "Tell me what bothers you."

"I am so confused. I have been trying so hard to have hope that we will find them, but after seeing how powerful that those Wargs are as a pack, and the violence they breathe, I can't help but think the worst. And now we are making a deal with them, helping them? What will my brother think of me? What if Meneldor dies on this journey or he never comes back? What will I say to mother and father?"

Her agitation was apparent. "Is this what has been torturing your mind these two weeks?"

"Yes. I thought that hunting the Scars would help me find hope again, but it did not. When we ambushed them, I wanted armour and a spear to slay them, not just a bow. I envied Eric and Meneldor, and especially Nergel for their chance for revenge on thier honor. After hearing their growls and threats, and watching them mercilessly beat Meneldor while he was trapped in the tent, part of me just wants their blood. "

She paused, looking at her Aunt, who sat listening peacefully, intently; Unmoved by the violence of spirit that Ancalime revealed.

"There's more, isn't there."

"I think so. I think I feel torn. I watch Alina, and see how she can act so womanly, so humble, so quietly courageous in the face of her own fear. But something in me screams for vengeance. That proud cold woman that my father trains me in public to be, feels like a tyrannical Queen, wanting death to her enemies. No mercy. No softness. Just death and judgement. And I hate it. I hate that woman I feel I am becoming. There is no honor in that."

"Indeed there is not." Gothweniel agreed. "But being soaked in their blood will not bring back our brothers. We must follow this trail to its end, and if it is our end as well, then we too will face that when we get there. Our task is to be sure that we are the women we need to be when we get there. We have no idea now why we are on this trail, but we have been surprised. Nothing since the very beginnings of this journey has turned out as we had thought. The H'Chyal'ch we tracked as enemies turned out to be our saviours. They turned to face death from the hated G'Hochx, and we in turn saved them. That too did not turn out as they had thought. Those two warglets told me that their entire pack expected to die at their teeth, but it was our arrows that saved them. Our paths have unexpectedly drawn us to trust one another, and so we must. How did this start? We can't tell. To what end? We can both only hope. For the H'Chyal'ch? A new home and a new/old way of life without domination. For us, to rescue our brothers from slavery."

"The H'Chyal'ch all expected to die that morning?"

"Yes. Every last one of them."

"I don't want to be that vengeful Queen. I want to be like you, Aunt."

"What stops you?"

"Father wants me to be perfect, to command Dale's society as it's leading lady. To have my pick of the best young noblemen of Dale."

"If the stories he told me about your public appearances this Spring are true, I would think that you had indeed succeeded."

"No, not really. I have made many enemies among the debutantes, especially the Princess Gironne and her friends."

"Why should she care about you? You are not of the royal rank."

"Yes, but my success among the young men quietly makes her out to be a spinster. Too old to lead society unmarried. She is two years older than me. Almost Aldarion's age."

"I do not understand these things."

"I know; it is not your way. But that is not the point. But I don't really want any of that. I want my brother, and the love we had when I was younger, and we could ride, and fence, and take joy in simple things. There will be none of that for me. I almost envy Alina and her sweetness- she will find a good husband with an equally good temper and raise a family in joy. For me it will be for lands and connections. "

"I can see why you have no hope. You sound as if you were the slave, and your father is the slave merchant."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"No, you did not, but that is how you feel, is it not?"

"Perhaps."

"Then your challenge is with your father, not just the G'Hochx and their ilk."

"Aunt, help me. I am so afraid."

"Let go of your fears; forgive. "

Gothweniel held her friend to her chest, and with gentle breeze wrapping her red hair around Ancalime's face, sang her quiet songs, prayers of peace and light. Prayers that would keep her young friend in the present moment, in her true, good and beautiful self. Prayers against the darkness she felt within and without.

On the fifth day, they packed their small camp and prepared to go meet the H'Chyal'ch. As the morning sun broke through the top of the trees, they were interrupted by another contingent of Elven visitors. This time it was a larger group- a troop of fourteen woodsmen, of various ages. They were led by Meldiron, a respected veteran of the Second Age. They spent another morning teaching, checking Gothweniel's wounds and feeding the party.

Meldiron had a very private conversation with Calådhiel, Gothweniel and Lona. To Meldiron, they shared the real tale, and how they were more concerned with their findings

being shared with Dale or Erebor, even by rumor than with their story being told. He explained the gravity of their findings: The notion that wargs, led by some human, is out raiding for slaves would put the entire border on guard. The three women in turn explained how they were saved by the H'Chyal'ch, and that they only seek asylum, not vengeance. They wanted to help these creatures find a home in the unsettled lands, and with their help, continue to seek their brothers. He listened respectfully, questioned them some, and after reflection agreed that they had chosen a wise path. He gave his word that he would not allow the real story of warg-driven slavery to get out. What he did not tell them is that his orders were if he were to find them, that he was to bring them home.

With their new escort, They headed further south east at a brisk pace. They encamped in an area on an open hillside, where they could easily be seen by someone approaching from the south.

Finally, on that sixth day of Meneldor's absence, a group of horsemen was seen approaching from the south at a brisk pace. From the edge of the trees, they saw horsemen riding hard, and realized that one of the riders was Meneldor, but on a different (and faster) horse. The party from Dale mounted to go meet them. As they started riding out, the elves dispersed to the trees around them. It was not long after noon that the call went out, and they paused.

Ancalime spurred her horse ahead of the others to greet her brother warmly. Meneldor introduced her to the four men with him, and in particular to Thalos, the knight who protects the nearest village. The four riders accompanied them as they rode back to meet the mounted party from Dale. On watching the deference Meneldor gave his sisters and the ladies, Sir Thalos and his companions were a little taken aback by their somewhat strange customs, and on seeing so many women mounted and armed. As they rode closer to the shade of the trees, they recognized that they were also in the presence of company of Greenwood elves. This was uncommon for such a group to be seen outside the borders of the Greenwood, and it made them nervous. Ancalime made all of the introductions. Thalos was put at ease when her introductions included Meldiron, with whom he was acquainted. They spent time inspecting the prisoner Warg, who was not of the pack in question. This led to a number of questions. They made it clear that these questions would be answered today or tomorrow if things went well.

Now among his friends, Meneldor explained that it took him longer to find the settlements than he had anticipated, and then it took time to convince them of his strange tale - first finding anyone who actually knew what a Warg was, and then convincing them that they should want to help wargs, rather than kill them. The tale that he gave about a whole pack was seeking an asylum was too fantastic to be ignored, but the remains of his bruises helped to convince them of his tale. So they came. This time, Eric took the lead to explain to Sir Thalos and the elves present about 'bad' wargs (G'Hochx) and 'good' wargs. Of the H'Chyal'ch and what they had explained about their law. All were intrigued, especially coming from a well-spoken Knight of Dol Amroth.

As the afternoon waned, they traveled several miles north west to meet the H'Chyal'ch council as they had arranged. Soon, clearly spotted, the immature twins ran up, and greeted their 'Mistress'. This was for some, their first encounter with a Warg. Gothweniel dismounted to greet them, and all but the party were amazed to see so beautiful an Elven maiden so at peace with these massive and seemingly evil creatures. This compared to the massive creature tied to a travois was stark.

Ancalime explained to Thalos and his companions, and Calådhiel to the elves, that if all went well, they would see far more amazing things this day. Not all that they knew about wargs was as it had seemed. Noting that it was Ancalime, and not Eric or Nergel addressing them, the humans looked at each other cautiously, as if they were already witnessing amazing things. Meneldor simply explained that this was his older sister, the Daughter of Lord Eldecar, elector of Dale. They were suitably impressed. Nergel and Sir Eric's silence equally impressed them.

While these conversations went on, the twins explained in their odd mix of Goblin and Wargish that the Alpha male was coming. They should leave the trail, and move to a location south and west. They did so, with the wargs leading. Within an hour of riding, Gothweniel signaled them to stop. Meneldor led the visitors to dismount, as did the party from Dale. Meneldor, Ancalime and Alina all moved their horses out of the way and carefully picketed them. Meldiron and company continued on watch, and soon signals went out, and Meldiron with a quiet call brought them all in. All were a bit defensive.

Gothweniel, with the twins by her, took up a position as an interpreter. She realized that Meldiron and several of his party were probably better than her. She made a brief introduction, and they waited. Gothweniel explains that they have brought the warg for justice, and that they would discuss the other terms later. All watch as Nergal in his full chain armour powerfully carries the struggling G'Hochx prisoner, with Eric holding it's muzzled head. He unceremoniously dumped the warg in the middle of the clearing, and before it can jump to its feet, he kicks the warg hard. Alpha male and many of the pack were watching.

At a word from the Alpha, a grayed warg limps into the clearing. Gothweniel thinks it is the one she bandaged after their rescue. She calls out the accusation, which is that this warg murdered cubs. The prisoner proudly growls back, that they were rebels, and all deserved death. The old warg rebutted and Gothweniel spoke the retort spoken to the prisoner: "Our way is not to hunt or kill our own. The Bechx'lt yes, but not our own. You are ..." she paused, looking at Meldiron. "I do not know this word."

Meldiron added for her "'Cannibal' is what I think she means."

The humans and most of the elves all looked at each other with a bit of fear and revulsion in their faces. The wargs ignored them completely as the strange trial continued.

Now, with the accusation set, the Alpha male spoke, "Fight? Or Submit?" The grey wolf retreated away from the now freed prisoner.

"Fight! You are traitors. I will drink your blood."

The Alpha male called out a name, and an adult female stepped forward. They exchanged some words, spoken and unspoken. "Your cubs were so murdered. Do you take the challenge?" Echoed Gothweniel for those present.

For her answer, no translation was necessary. She immediately leaped into the center, as the G'Hochx counter charged. It stood no chance. The female had a violence in her that gave her the advantage, and though smaller, it missed no opportunities to tear or lunge, at one point she clamped on a hind leg and powerfully spun the larger warg to the ground only to leap onto it and clamp onto its neck. The larger warg tried to roll her off, but the violence of the smaller female was too much. They rolled and spun and rolled and spun, but she clung with tenacity. With a violent jar as they rolled and spun yet again, the larger warg went suddenly limp. She shook her head, and silently snarled. As she turned, she kicked the dust over the limp body, and then limped away. No translation was necessary. Other wargs around them growled in approval. At the sound the horses nearby were audibly nervous.

All the people present were stunned to silence. But the Alpha male continued as if this were quite normal, briefly addressing the pack and explaining why the humans were present. Now, the Alpha Female stepped out and spoke in Goblin: "We seek a home, where we can live in peace with men and elves, and hunt free as in days of old. Not ruled by Goblin or N'galth. We promised guides in exchange for peace." When Gothweniel spoke, she looked at Meldiron for help. Even Meldiron had no word to translate 'N'galth'.

Now Meneldor introduced Sir Thalos, the knight of the village to the south. Thalos briefly asked their intentions, and the Alpha female explains that they have a prisoner guilty of heinous crimes. They both misunderstood each other - he was speaking of the future of the pack, as Meneldor had led him to consider, she was speaking of the trial that was about to begin. With some clarity provided by Gothweniel, they briefly talk about asylum, and the Alpha female then says this will wait.

The Alpha Female briefly explained that great evil was committed by the G'Hochx, and how that is not the H'Chyal'ch way. They hunt deer and bear and wolves. On hearing this, Thalos offered them some wild land, with crags where wild sheep and wolves roam to the south and east of their lands. If they bring them wolves several times a year, they would bring them sheep, as marks of peace between them. That these would be their hunting grounds; That they would warn that this was not land for humans to settle, but they were to not attack wanderers or the unarmed. Meldiron and Gothweniel translated to Goblin for the pack to hear. A long silence ensued, as the Alpha only acknowledged Thalos' suggestion. All of the humans knew that it was not his land to give, but neither was it anyone else's.

The Alpha Male then spoke, "How would we know where the land ends?" Gothweniel translated. "How would you know not to kill us? How would we seek redress from your people?"

Thalos replied calmly. "If you come with us, we will show you first to our leaders, and declare a meeting place on the border. A place like this - where we can talk." Gothweniel and one of Meldiron's companions translated into Goblin. Noses went up and down. Noting that it was Meneldor who found the human riders from the south, the Alpha walked around the men on their horses. All but the squire from Dale had to work to control their mounts. He spoke again in Goblin, and asked Meneldor to lead. His scent they knew.

Meneldor realized this was a great honor. "Tell them Yes." Calådhiel immediately repeated 'yes' in Goblin for him. Meldiron suggested sending one of his people as a translator, and to witness such an historical agreement and return with the news so they of the Greenwood could observe it.

The Alpha watched the murmurs and discussions among the people. "Where we go, people hunt us. We will kill those who hunt us, as you kill those who hunt you." Again Gothwenial translated.

Thalos answered. "If they are harmless, or our people, we want them for justice. If they are not, and they threaten you, then they are just a wolf with two legs. How we will keep this peace is what we will discuss." Again, after translation back to Goblin speech, the wargs appeared to approve. The Alpha walked around, looking his pack in the eye. Then he turned to the humans. "We go. Now."

He walked up to the twins that had led Gothweniel and the others to them. In wordless Warg speech, he gave them a choice. The Alpha Female addressed The daughters of Vanesse, and told them to protect the twins. They will hunt with them to find their brothers. She bid them a safe hunt. They jumped up, went over to an Adult female, honored, then trotted over to Gothweniel. They sat down by her. The other wargs all stood.

All agreed. It was decided. Meneldor finally spoke, but primarily to his sister. "I want to follow you north, but I feel obligated to keep my word to show these men that the H'Chyal'ch are who they say." He then added, "If this gets us our guide, so we can rescue or avenge Aldarion, then I see no better way to contribute."

Ancalime responded clearly, "Meneldor, this is what Aldarion would have you do. This is what Aearion would have you do. If we are to find them, we need you to play your part. Father will understand, I hope." She walked up and stood next to him, right in front of his knee. "Be safe, brother. If we do not return, or you hear word of our failure, please tell Father that I loved him."

Meneldor thought about what she was saying. He reached behind him, and untied two of the rolled bundles behind his saddle. He replied from his horse, "Take these then. You'll need them more than I." The one was light, the other clearly not. The lightweight bundle was his gambecon, while the heavy one was his chainmail. "I have some money. I can buy something temporary down south. Please return with the twin wargs. Then I will accompany you home. Otherwise, Father will never forgive me."

Bending down from his saddle, he embraced his 'little' sister. "Take care, sister. Find him. Then we can return in honor."

"Be safe, brother." She answered.

"You as well. May the blessings of the Valar be with you. Seek me among Sir Thalos's people."

The two parties departed; Meneldor and one of Meldiron's foresters on Meneldor's exceptionally calm war horse, and the four men from the south, all mounted on rather skittish nervous horses. The H'Chyal'ch, less the twin juveniles all followed.

As they left, Meldiron quietly commented to his scouts about the importance of what had just taken place. That these Wargs, these evil creatures and servants of the Dark Lord and their allies had broken away, and were negotiating a haven - a place to be their own and free of the domination of the Goblins and Orcs that have controlled them century after century. This was something unexpected; something unheard of, and even more, that a mere boy from Dale was leading something so momentous.

Calådhiel , overhearing what Meldiron was saying, commented to him in Sindarin. "My Lord, thank you for staying your hand, and allowing the H'Chyal'ch to continue. It has been our custom to kill these creatures on sight; perhaps now we should not."

Taking a cue from her aunt, Ancalime continued. "My lord, will you be returning to the Greenwood? "

Her direct address took him aback. He did not expect this woman from Dale to understand what he was saying, or to speak his language so clearly. "Yes; I was instructed to escort you back to the Greenwood if and when Calådhiel and her company were found."

Ancalime switched to her native tongue, "But we have no intention of returning. We set out to find our brothers. And we will do this before we return. We helped these wargs as friends, and now know our foes. We now know that our brothers are prisoners in the northern mountains, slaves to the G'Hochx and those who control them. As a token, these two wargs will escort us, and show us where their lairs are. We intend to find them and bring them home." While she spoke, Calådhiel and her sister came up behind Ancalime, but let her continue leading the conversation.

Meldiron noticed their attendance, and noted that Meneldor's departure left Calådhiel and her companions short one bow just before they set out to search the very heart of the wargs' territory. "But you just sent your own brother away; as you prepare to go into the wilds amidst a dangerous foe, you shrink your company. My instructions are to escort you back to the Greenwood. At the moment, that would seem most prudent."

Ancalime glanced briefly at her aunts before replying. "Then my lord, perhaps you should 'escort' us home, knowing that the trail leads to the mountains first. We now have guides; we will not return to the Greenwood until we've found our brothers, or lost hope of their fate. And at present, we have nothing but hopeful assurance. We are heading north. Will you escort us?"

Sensing the determination in her voice and demeanor, he saw it echoed in the daughters of Vanesse, "How can you be so certain that any of them are alive? Or that you will find them? Or that these two runt wargs will not simply abandon you in the night, or not just tear your throat out when you sleep?"

"In Dale, my lord, we had no hope. But the lady Alina," She pointed to their tall companion now helping to saddle and load their horses with Eric and Nergel, "Alina is a twin. She knows her brother is alive. That hope was rewarded when we were prisoners ourselves, and were about to be led north to slavery or worse." Here she paused to control her own fears and temper. "We learned that the very wargs we were tracking had in fact captured our brothers, and had been taken, not killed. She had been proved right. So we believe them to be alive. To not act on that belief would be unconscionable."

She paused again. "You are corrrect though; we have sent my brother away, possibly even to his own doom. But it was a trade with 'the enemy of my enemy.' So we have guides now. Ugly? Yes. Dangerous? Yes. Untrustworthy? Possibly. But they are the enemy of my enemy, and we offer them the chance to 'lick their blood.' of those who have stolen their homes and murdered their own kin. I trust them to not kill me, because I trust these beasts to hunt and kill the G'Hochx when we find them."

Gothweniel, attune to her argument, now picked up the torch. "Our fear is not that they will kill us, but rather that we get them killed before we find and avenge our brothers. And we will avenge our brothers. But Lady Ancalime's question remains."

Meldiron, under the eyes of these three noble women and his own scouts paused. Calådhiel, seeing the wisdom in Ancalime's tactic, filled the pause. "Her assertion is quite valid. You are charged to escort us. We could certainly use your escort, only we will not be returning to the Greenwood directly." She added the emphasis. "Perhaps you should 'escort' us." With this statement, Lona and the others paused their work to listen. Sensing the moment to switch back to Sindarin, which she knew that his scouts would understand, she completed the argument. "It is your decision, my lord."

It was his decision. And he knew he would not cross the courage and conviction of these women by forcing them to return to their homes. None of this was as he was told to expect. Clearly and calmly he replied, "Yes, my ladies, it is."

Meldiron made his decision. He chose to help.

He then turned to address his foresters formally. "I will personally accompany the daughters of Vanesse back to the Greenwood, and report their tidings myself. The ladies and I will return to the Greenwood when we are ready."

He told his guards to return to their duties, and to report the tidings of peace with a pack of H'Chyal'ch wargs to the King. And that the report of his translator accompanying Meneldor would follow. "Please emphasize the importance of this - we have always assumed these to be thoroughly evil creatures, but while dangerous, they have their own code and law. With the fall of the Enemy, even his minions appear to be able to change." He appointed one of his men to take command.

Meldiron also instructed them to distribute the warning among the border guards that they should seek out the G'Hochx skirting their borders to the east; that these creatures should be hunted down. He also explains that they should mention that they've met Calådhiel and her companions, and that they are safe. But he cautions them not to share about "Calådhiel's hunt" that she was undertaking, but rather that they are continuing to scout and will return to their parents in the Fall.

To Alina, listening to these instructions was complete gibberish; she knew some Sindarin words and phrases from Lona, but this was a full set of instructions with a few short questions and responses. To Eric, Nergel and Ancalime, they realized they had just gained a very experienced guide. To the three elvish women, they knew they had real help, a hero from the Second Age, one who would truly protect and guide them in what was shaping to be an unknown journey into the wilds of the north just before winter. Speed and experience would be greatly help them. Lona quietly shared the gist with Alina - That Meldiron was sending his scouts back to the Greenwood, to report what they had found about Wargs seeking to live with, rather than against humans, and that Meldiron himself would be accompanying them as they 'hunted' for the Scars in the north. She rejoiced with her tall friend that they would have an experienced companion. Alina, ever atune to people, quickly picked up on the importance of his utilizing a little fiction in reporting on their activities.

As they packed their steeds they prepared to head north. Meldiron noticed that the ladies had overfilled their quivers. He thought this sensible and did the same before his scouts left. He thought he might have more use of his scout's arrows than they. He turned out to be correct.


	6. Chapter 6: Draug Bereth

**Chapter 6:** ** _Draug Bereth_**

Meldiron was a bit cautious of what he had just committed himself to do. On one hand, he felt as if he were shepherding children, as they were all so young, even Eric and Nergel. On the other hand, the two men from the south seemed honorable, well trained and had some experience. Eric was very intelligent, and used his head more often than his sword or bow. Nergel, despite his size was quiet, but also well-thought, and more prone to downplaying his role, rather than boasting. The ladies were a bit more complex. Ancalime appeared like a noble princess, but acted like a squire - constantly working with the horses especially now that Meneldor was not there to help her. Lona he knew only by her family reputation, which was of one who was isolated, and probably spent too much time with humans. Alina seemed to work with her constantly, and was clearly a non-combatant. It was hard to see why she had taken on this life in the wilds. Lastly there were the two daughters of Vanesse; both competent, but like Lona, young and headstrong.

But he could not help but observe what they had accomplished. They had found and tracked two groups of wargs, and managed not to be killed; They managed to form an alliance with an enemy pack, and broker a safe space for them. They managed to acquire information from the enemy, and live to speak it. And they managed to convince him to travel with them on what might just be a fool's errand. But they were far too much in earnest. They seemed far more interested in their goal, and how to accomplish it without getting themselves or their brothers killed. And that earnestness had carried them for weeks, mostly alone in the wilds. That was impressive for a group of 'children.'

Knowing that to travel directly north through the Greenwood would take too long, and most likely land them back in their fathers' homes than in the northern mountains, they headed west and north, intending to skirt the Greenwood so as to make significantly better time. While there are no roads, on the border of the woods, once on the edge of the trees there is both good hunting and open ground where their horses would be a great advantage. While this would add time to their journey later, it would avoid the warg hunters on the Eastern border, which, thanks to Meldiron, would soon have many more elvish patrols as well.

These became days of hard riding, but relative safety. Meldiron was familiar with these regions, and how to travel quickly without attracting notice. He very much took the role of an escort, and advisor, even a mentor, but not their leader. To his surprise, that was managed by the women, mostly Calåthiel and Ancalime.

The party avoided the few villages that were close to the Greenwood. Along the way they saw normal, peaceful things. Things normal to the beginning of Fall. Harvested fields occasionally in the distance; some trees beginning to change color. It took a number of days, but the horses grew quite used to having the twin wargs near them, running alongside. Periodically they would disappear for part of the a day as they went hunt up a deer or rabbits, or whatever they could catch. Ancalime, could not help thinking of them as big, ugly, but smart dogs.

There were times when she could question the twins through Gothweniel. For it was very clear that she was their favorite. They would listen to Calådhiel and would answer Meldiron or Lona, but they appeared to genuinely like Gothweniel. She found it completely unexpected both that they were there, allied with them, but also how they took to Gothweniel. Watching these horribly ugly, smelly beasts romp and play with this breathtakingly beautiful woman was too much for words. She wished she could paint their picture, because she couldn't describe it, nor the strange internal conflicts it raised within her.

But prudence demanded that they continue to talk with, and get to know these allies that had been assigned them. So she and Eric took turns trying to ask the twins practical things, about how they hunted, trying to learn how they thought and acted. He learned that wargs work in pairs often. She uncovered that they form hunting groups that range from 5-13, with a leader and 2-6 pairs. Their word for 'several' seemed to be in this range. From observation they concluded that when wargs first spot something strange they instinctively freeze for a moment, and then will drop and watch, flee, or attack as warranted. That they can go for days without a good meal, but the less they eat, the less stamina they have.

What little they learned of their culture seemed to focus nearly exclusively on 'the pack', and how they fit. But also about hate. Hatred for N'galth or for anything seemed to be easy to conjure. When Ancalime pondered what she learned about their 'character', she did not have to look hard to see how these could become creatures of such great evil, and tools for others to control: they saw themselves as only tools, and lived in a society that appeared to not care for any that were not useful. All are either in, or they are _Bechx'lt_ , Yet the H'Chyal'ch kept the lame with them. This made some sense; they were of the pack, but they were clearly not very useful. But that morning when she was captured, she watched several of these old wargs almost singularly fight a bigger, stronger, G'Hochx until it killed them, all to keep them from ganging up on another of the H'Chyal'ch. Something was clearly different. The pieces did not all fit.

But even with their vicious language and deep black-and-white utilitarian view of everyone and everything outside their pack, she saw that these two genuinely seemed to care for Gothweniel. And even herself too, but she was much less open to giving them too much attention. This was especially keen with Gothweniel. In her presence, they seemed somehow more free, more playful, more unique, and she in turn welcomed them with love, not fear or violence. They respected Nergel who was big and strong, but with Gothweniel they played freely, yet held back their strength. As she learned these things by observing Gothweniel and the twins, she also spent time sharing what she was learning with all of her companions, so they became more aware of what they were dealing with, and expected to face. It also seemed strange that to the twins, they were their 'temporary' pack. And Gothweniel was their Alpha Female. Meldiron seemed the Alpha male.

All during these days, Meldiron took time to query each of his young charges about themselves, and particularly about what they knew about the disappearances of their brothers. The impression they left was curiously confident, given the scant details. Clearly their brief capture experience was a breakthrough they could not have predicted. Eventually, Lona is the one to explain about Alina - that it had been her sense of her brother that led to the expedition, only to be rewarded with the information gleaned from the G'Hochx while they were prisoners. Calådhiel and Gothweniel explained their ambush and capture, and subsequent rescue. While listening to the details, he began to understand how committed each of these young women were to their brothers, and what they were willing to risk and endure in order to secure their release. And as they related their tale and their experiences searching, he also noted that they worked very well as a team.

On the surface, their whole premise appeared supported by the flimsiest of evidence. But their faith in Alina had been rewarded, multiple times. That would require more investigation itself. Their commitment to secrecy and stealth, particularly in Dale, and to extension the courts of the Greenwood and Erebor was laudable. And probably wise. It was unlikely that the Jewelsmith and his companions would have been caught unless their departure and route were known and communicated in some detail. Their trail, on the other hand had been hard to find; It had taken good men days of searching after they'd been tipped off as to their probable location. This meant that whatever happened to them was planned, and reasonably well-executed. In the face of that uncertainty, caution made sense.

As they continued north, he decided it was time for him to train his charges how to cover horses's passage. With each walking break, he would switch among each of them to dismount and search, and train them in hiding their paths, and in directing their paths to make themselves harder to find. He found willing learners.

As they turned north, Calådhiel showed Ancalime how best to wear her brother's armour. It was mostly too big on her; in length and especially around her waist. A few belts for cinching went a long way to improving the fit and distribution of weight. Alina and Gothweniel sat and watched the transformation. Gothweniel praised her; Calådhiel commented that they'd need to open a few rings to ensure she could sit in the saddle comfortably. Meldiron just nodded and went on about the work at hand. Lona encouraged her, and made her draw her sword and show her how well she could move. She wore the armour every day, not so much because she felt the need, but to get used to the weight and heat. On warmer days she rolled up the mail and just wore the padding.

Eric in particular spent time asking Meldiron what he knew of wargs; how to hunt them; how they attack. While passing on the information he remembered from long ago, they also spend time observing the twins on one of their hunts. They begin to realize that wargs, particularly larger groups are extremely dangerous. They can unseat a man from horseback, and in teams can take down a horse. Their major weakness was arrows, and in this group, all but Alina were fine shots, with Eric and Gothweniel being exceptionally fast. Meldiron and Eric spent time considering how best to ambush wargs - ways to draw them onto archers, rather than running in the open or on rocks where they would have the advantage. They spent many hours trading off scenarios and how best to work with the strengths of their small company. Archery was clearly one of them.

Their travels continued for days, and as they continued north, Eric found himself trying to spend time talking with Meldiron. He particularly wanted to hear the history of middle earth from someone who'd lived much of it. He was intrigued by all the things that Meldiron had been a part of. He was particularly fascinated by the tales of the wars with the Kingdoms of the north, and of the Witch King and his eventual defeat.

Meldiron was a little surprised that this young knight wanted to hear so many of these tales. But Eric encouraged him to go on for hours and hours as they rode, but when they stopped. He told them the stories of the rise and fall of Numenor, and their rejection of the gift of men, their greed for immortality. He told the tales of Sauron, the deceiver, and the creation of the rings of power. The tales of Elendil and the rise and fall of Mordor. Finally the great battle of Dagorlad and the siege and defeat of Sauron, which he had been a part of. This was the Second Age.

The Third age was the age of men, which he also witnessed much of. He told of Isildur who planted the seed of the White Tree of Gondor, and the darkening of Mirkwood; that had particular implications for Meldiron, and little tales from many settings came out. Then came the rise of the Witch King, and his 500 years of terror in the north, eventually destroying the last of the Northern kingdom and ending with his final defeat at the battle of Fornost. His reappearance in Mordor, his challenge to Gondor, and the challenge to Sauron at Dol Guldur. This led to 400 years of the Watchful Peace. Within 100 years of the renewed struggles, Dragons reappeared in the North. Thence began another set of wars against the dragons, in which he and his people had fought again and again. Eric was particularly interested in hearing how they could defeat such powerful creatures, not just fantastic tales.

His stories continued describing how the enemy continued to advance against men, and the great losses in Rohan and Eriador. In 2770, Smaug, the last of the great dragons, destroyed Dale and Erebor. Then, 161 years later, Smaug, was awakened in the ruins of Erebor only to be defeated by Bard of Esgaroth. He participated in the subsequent Battle of Five Armies, fighting alongside Beninion and Vanesse, Calådhiel's parents. That launched a time of peace and the restoration of trade and relations with Dale and the rebuilt Esgaroth (Laketown).

Then he told tales about the events of the War of the Ring 3018-3019, culminating in the Dawnless Day (March 10th) when the hosts of Mordor poured forth to destroy Gondor. He told of their trials in Mirkwood, and of scourge of Dale. He told him of Battle of Dale on 17th of March, and how Beninion had attacked and brought hope, only to be nearly overwhelmed and forced to retreat into the mountain with King Thorin, and King Bard II.

It was during that siege that he had fought with King Thurandril. He was in the south and there were great days-long battles under the trees to the west and south, and fire swept their woods as he fought with his people against the hosts of Misty Mountains. On the 20th, New Year's day, he witnessed Celeborn and Thurandril meet after defeating the hosts of Goblins and Orcs. They then turned back to Erebor, while Beninion fought off the enemy for eight straight days until the passing of Sauron on the 25th. They arrived shortly after, to witness how the enemy had left all in ruins.

While all would listen, it was Eric who continually asked for details, and with an excellent recall, brought to mind the heroes and villains of these long, and not-so long bygone ages. These tales eventually ended with snippets of Meldiron's many battles in the cleansing of Mirkwood after The War.

Eventually it was Meldiron's turn to question. "Sir Eric, How did you and Nergel get caught up in this journey? I know how I was so lured." The nearby laughter from Gothweniel and Lona was both sweet sounding, and impossible to suppress. The charm that the sound made on his heart was equally hard to suppress.

"That is exceptionally easy to explain. Our choice was to hang around at the formal party in Dale, and pay for food and drink and then take a long ride South. Or we could spend our time with charming ladies, and get away from boring speeches and Nobles. That seemed like a pretty obvious choice to us at the time." The smile on his face told a part of the story as well. Nergel was looking at him with a big grin as well. They seemed to be enjoying themselves.

"But how did they choose you two?" How could they have known, out of the crowds, that you both might be willing to leave the party, so-to-speak?"

"Well, I think that could be blamed on Lona; and the Lady Ancalime. They both can be rather persuasive. And Lona could sell stone to dwarfs or trees to an elf. In fact, I think she has. Several times."

Lona, who was riding nearby, shrugged her shoulders, looked at them and smiled. Meldiron understood well. She could charm the shell off of a turtle. Maybe twice. And make them enjoy it. It was very obvious that the young knight knew he was being charmed, and seemed to enjoy every minute. Eric added, "It apparently runs in her family, but you would know that."

"But that was not my question. How did they find _you_."

"Now that I really think about it, I think we were a bit too obvious. We'd come to the city center, managed to present our gift early, and were thoroughly bored with the proceedings. We'd been slowly working our was away from the center for several hours at that point. And when a Lady like Ancalime asks for an escort home, it would be unthinkable to refuse such a request."

Nergel then smiled and piped in, "And the rest is history." His unconscious glance went to Alina, who didn't notice. Both Meldiron and Eric did.

That evening, Eric took some time with Meldiron by himself, as he wanted to get his advice on some concerns that were bothering him. He spoke in Sindarin, partly to keep himself in practice, but partly out of respect for the warrior who'd come to their aid.

"Lord Meldiron."

"Please just call me Meldiron."

"Certainly m'Lord."

"Meldiron. I am concerned that we are riding into a war. While the two warglets will be a distinct advantage, I am concerned that Ancalime and Alina are unprepared for what we will face. Our two encounters with the G'Hochx were quite violent. Neither were prepared to defend themselves well, particularly Alina. In another meeting with the wargs, I am concerned for their safety."

"As well you should be. But Alina's role is not to fight, from what I can tell. Although she is slowly learning to defend herself, and to handle horses. That may prove to be quite valuable."

"But the G'Hochx can run her down on a horse."

"Yes. Which means she should never get that close to them. And we will need our horses to get us and our people out of the mountains, assuming we find Aearion and his companions alive."

"Yes, I see."

"But Aldarion's little sister, despite her skill, does not appear to have the will to kill. I'm equally afraid for her."

"I think you see the mask she wants you to see. That young woman has a spirit that will not be quenched. They both do, actually. But where Alina is peaceful and steady, wise and thoughtful - Ancalime has a fire that matches her brother. She has been in a shell, and if her Aunts are to be believed, she is fighting a battle within her even now. I suspect that Aldarion's 'little sister' will surprise even me with what she is capable of. Unlike many soldiers who fight for what they may gain, or for themselves, she seems to be fighting for what is behind her; or in this case, ahead of us. That gives one a strength that is hard to match. We shall see though. I have been wrong with you humans before."

Eric thought about what Meldiron had just shared. It made sense. He started looking for signs of the mask Ancalime might be wearing. He wondered when she might let it down.

For several more days, they continued on the edge of the forest heading north. They ride for distance, varying their speed to keep the horses and riders moving as far as possible in a day. About every hour, they would stop and walk the horses, and every four they would break for a meal and to let the horses rest and eat. It was a grueling pace from sunup to sundown. As they crossed the famous northern road, they couldn't help but notice that the days were clearly growing shorter. One evening as they approached the northern corner of the Greenwood, they thought they heard the sound of a bear in distress. Checking that they were upwind, they paused, and watched as the twins left Gothweniel's side and ran up the nearest ridge. They immediately dropped to the ground as they came to the top.

Gothweniel and a curious Meldiron went after them. In peering over the ridge, they saw a small pack of dire wolves, busy cornering a full-grown bear. They watched the pack succeed in bringing down the bear. Taking appropriate precautions, they continued going north at a rapid pace. Meldiron explained quietly that Dire wolves are the enemies of wargs, as they hunt wargs; but lacking speech, they were never as easy for the enemy to breed or to control. That did not change that they were extremely dangerous. As they moved north, they especially spent time remaining downwind of where they thought the dire wolves might be. They were more cautious than ever about leaving a trail, and managed to dodge what they thought was a different group of dire wolves.

The elves, and Meldiron in particular found all of this intriguing, as these creatures had also not been reported for decades since the fall of the Enemy in Mordor. Yet now there were healthy packs. By following their trails, they had even managed to find a pack of dire wolves. At this point, they turned east and north to take them into the Greenwood, and hopefully away from the giant wolves. As they put more distance between them and the giants, the twins were definitely more at ease. Two packs of the giant wolves was two packs too many. Meldiron decided it would soon be time to take his border guards and do some hunting on the borders.

They definitely continued to hear wargs in the night. This was particularly noteworthy to the elves, who had gotten used to seeing evidence of wargs in many places. However, there was no evidence of wargs now. With a close eye on the wind, they picked their way north trying avoiding their hunting grounds. After spotting the dire wolves, it was plain to see that the twins kept close to Gothweniel - always near her; sometimes in front, sometimes behind. They paused to check the wind more often. For Lona, Calådhiel and Meldiron, this was a comforting thought. Their senses were far more attuned to danger on the wind than their own.

After another two days in the woods and meadows in this far-flung corner of the kingdom, they finally left the Greenwood and found the edge of the river valley running from west to east. They also spent time avoiding the few small villages set in the valley, but they did not get the opportunity to warn them of the wolves they'd left behind them. As they cleared the Greenwood and looked out across the valley, they could clearly see the snow-capped mountains to the North; the ancestral domain of Agmar. Meldiron had memories of campaigns in these regions, in the time of the Witch King and the dragons. The evening chill was now much more noticeable. The cloaks packed for sleeping were used more often.

As they crossed into the borderlands, Meldiron pointed out a recent set of wolverine tracks. He pointed out that these were generally solitary creatures, and very dangerous. With tooth and claw reserved for their prey, they normally had their hollows to hide in to avoid disturbance. Unless they had a particular fight to pick. Not having a reason to disturb the creature, they avoided it successfully.

The three men happened to be in the front of the line at this point. Eric commented to Nergel and Meldiron, "These northern woodlands could be a great place to be a wolverine - plenty of territory, and few creatures that are stupid enough or crazy enough to hunt them." As they were winding through the woods, he looked down the trail at the four armed women winding up the hill behind them. He watched their bows sticking up over their heads, and the over-full quivers on their backs or on their horses, armoured with swords on their person or their horse. Only Alina was not obviously in armour of some sort. He smiled as he watched Ancalime, wearing the chainmail hauberk and gambecon she had pilfered from Meneldor. She was challenging Alina to speed-draw contests - who could get their sword out first while they kept their horses on the trail. She managed to make a game out of everything martial.

"I feel like we have our own wolverines behind us."

Meldiron laughed, and the Warg Twins paused when he made the strange sound. He translated Eric's comment, to see if they could get the humor. They just repeated the Goblin word for Wolverine, and went back to scouting the trail ahead of them.

Nergel just smiled. It struck him that these particular 'wolverines' in fact had quite a fight to pick. He'd already seen some of their far-reaching 'claws' in action - and it gave him some grim confidence. And once in a while, she could beat Ancalime to the draw. It was a sobering thought that she might need to,

They continued making good time heading east and north. On their second night north of the Greenwood, they heard strange wolf-like sounds. None of them were very familiar with the sounds. Gothweniel noted that the twins immediately became prickly; their noses down, and the hair on their neck raised. They spoke a wargish name of a controller of the Scars, similar to "N'Galth." The twins barred their teeth. When they asked the twins who the wargs might be calling, they indicated that they were out hunting other wargs. The call is from base of a spur of the Northern Mountains, further to the north and east of their current location. Bedding down, the elves stayed on watch. All four elves recognized warg calls, but at a great distance. This was definitely disturbing. While they heard the call again deep in the night, two or three hours later it was very quiet. They got the sense that this creature had moved east.

Calådhiel and Lona went hunting for food, and managed to take a deer. This they they clean and cook. Alina and Gothweniel and Ancalime make breakfast, and prepare food for travel. Nergal, Erik and Meldiron spent time caring for the horses, and performing minor repairs on their equipment and armour. Both Nergal and Eric were quite impressed with Meldiron's experience and good sense. They queried him on his knowledge recent and not-so recent inhabitants of the realms north of the Greenwood, particularly since the fall of the Dark Lord. Meldiron explained that these lands used to be mostly Goblin and Orc lands, and the home to Wargs. After the fall of the Dark Lord, all three were not seen for a human generation or more. There were peoples who descended from the northern kingdoms, mostly clan groups scattered in the mountains. Mostly, the people from the mountains were not well organized, and had been subject to the machinations of the Dark Lord and his minions. But since his fall, they had been relatively peaceful. On the western side of the mountains, there were men who had moved in and built their own settlements. They conducted some occasional trade with the Greenwood and the human settlements to the west. These settlements might be safe havens, but those of the mountain peoples further to the east would be questionable. The western settlements also traded with the mountain people, so they could be sources of news.

After their meal, they continued their ride to the east and north. On their periodic breaks to walk the horses, they spent time trying to understand who would buy slaves up north. Listening to Meldiron's descriptions, neither of these peoples sounded rich enough or organized enough to buy slaves.

Ancalime joined in on the conversation, and noted that among the border holdings in the north of Dale, it was occasionally reported that a farmer or their child would disappear. Meldiron mentions that the mountain people would probably take these people as slaves, that such persons are form a third-class in their society as the servants of their clan. They are taken to do all the dirty work, but they are not property per-se; they are not bought or sold. They were usually taken as children and raised as servants, or the occasional wife. Thraals were not chattel slaves, just third-class citizens usually made up of prisoners or captives. But they could also be excess children from poor families sold as servants.

At another walk, Eric asked Alina what made Aaron special, why might he be a target. She answered, "The jewels he was carrying were worth a kings ransom. But he made them. My twin brother is a prodigy silver smith." Meldiron asks pointedly, "You're a twin?" He started asking questions about Aaron, and what she remembered about him. She explained about Aaron, and his apprenticeship as a silver smith. She explained that as a boy, he was extremely proficient, particularly at smelting and material preparation. Consequently, he was able to produce some of the purest precious metals. Aaron was an expert at material effects. He could process red gold, and other special effects.

"Father was so proud of him as a boy. He was able to learn all of Father's special techniques before he was fourteen. No one told him that it often took a lifetime of trials and mistakes to develop talent with those techniques. By the time we were 15, he was making his own metals, with their own special effects. He was even able to process small amounts of platinum, but that turned out to be too expensive. But the little bit he was able to produce did make a rich gift for the Queen of Gondor."

At this point, Lona interrupted. "Adan and father so much enjoyed that gift. It was quite the surprise that such a rich and rare precious item should be given to the Queen. Father paid a small fortune for it, and enjoyed every minute. They so much enjoyed surprising the court of Gondor. No one would believe that a teenager created such a rich and rare item. That was a little under two years ago." She took her tall friend's hand, "It was the one time that I traveled outside Dale before taking this long journey."

Meldiron was intrigued by what he heard. They mounted, and continued their discussion from horseback. Calådhiel raised the question, "Are there not numbers of mines and minerals in the North?" She let him answer, and as an engaged listener, prodded with mild questions, encouraging him to explain in some detail. Eventually she shifted to history, "Were not these part of Angmar's lands in an age long past? What happened to all of the lairs for the Goblins and Orcs? Certainly there were rich iron and salt mines." Meldiron eventually ended his explanations, "Yes, there are lots of mines and minerals in these parts. Before the death of the Witch King, the sorcerers of the North used to conjure all sorts of strange things from the rocks. But that was a long time ago, and he was destroyed before the gates of Minas Tirith before the overthrow of the Dark Lord."

Eric, not being able to refrain from the puzzle asked, "Conjuring something from the rocks - Could this be why Aaron was taken? Maybe the kings jewels were not the target. They could have just killed him and taken them, but they did not. They kept him. Maybe they kept him because he is gifted in forging." No one answered. While possible, that conclusion left more questions than answers. Eric was a little disheartened by the silence.

The silence of the riders was broken only by the creak of their saddles. After a while of this Calådhiel looked at him and replied, "Perhaps we will find out."

That evening, Meldiron spent more time asking Alina questions. Before the light faded from the western sky, he played a 'find the ball' game with her. He hid a ball, and asked her to determine which hand the ball was in. Focusing closely on him, Alina got her choice right four times a row. Then, with a little slight-of-hand, he hid the ball so that it is not in either hand. She paused, and smiled, "You're playing a trick on me, aren't you." Lona, looking on, hid her amazement. So did Meldiron. He went back to the regular game with two choices. Again, she got them right. He asked her how she knew. Alina replied, "Well, it's easy to see you when you switch hands, and which one you finish with." Lona again held her tongue, but thought to herself, "No, it isn't. I couldn't get it right 1/2 the time." Meldiron knew better too. He'd been playing this game with his comrades for centuries. No seventeen or eighteen year old girl could be that good, unless she had a gift. Like her twin brother Aaron, Alina had a gift, but clearly not the same gift.

He finally just asked her, "Tell me about your brother. How is it that you sense he is alive?" Alina explained about the instance when they were children, when Aaron was away for his first apprenticeship. She could sense how he was doing, at least sometimes. And when he returned, his stories matched up with what she remembered. She then explained how after he had been missing for some time, she was awakened at night with a sense of fear and suffering that was not hers, and she could not dismiss it. She knew that it was not a dream. And from there she knew without a shadow of doubt she sensed _Aaron's_ suffering, "And the suffering are not dead, but alive. And since then, this suffering has changed somewhat; but it still remains."

Meldiron asked her, "When do you get this sense of how he is feeling?"

"Most often, in the evening or morning when I am just awake, or have not yet gone to sleep. But occasionally at other times. Once in a while at night. It only seems to happen when we are separated."

To the others, this was quite the same story they'd heard before, but for Ancalime it really struck home that it was not just Aaron who had a special talent. It was Alina as well. This realization was a bit troubling; but it gave her more confidence that their search was not in vain. But also what such a gift might be used for besides finding a missing person.

Meldiron gently directed his young charge, "I would like you to make sure you take more time each day to concentrate, and think on your brother, and on each of us here. " With this instruction, he then went on to explain how the issue was not to clear her mind, but rather to meditate - to allow the thoughts and actions of the day, and the stimuli around her to flow past- like a stream, and to let the flow of her thoughts drift past without her stopping to consider any of them closely. To not chose the stream, but to let it flow past. And if she was distracted, to just relax, center again, and let the thoughts go by. And when she was done, to immediately express the feelings or images that were unrelated to the day to someone, or write them. Lona and Ancalime accepted this task.

Ancalime really wondered what sort of stories she would get to listen to and relate. Alina's 'dreams' so far had been quite a mix of immediate and not-so immediate images. Like of her leading mounted men into battle with a spear. Handling a spear did not surprise her in the least, except she didn't have one. And the only men here were people she'd much rather follow than lead. But she'd described the incident with Nergel and the wargs too well to believe it might not come to pass... soon.

Their journey north continued. Meldiron continued to learn more about the missing brothers. About what they were carrying. Calådhiel explained what they'd been told in Dale: that Aaron and Adan were sent with an important parcel, some jewels that had been crafted for, and was important to Brand, the King of Dale. Alina explained that these Jewels had been made in Erebor, and designed and set by Aaron in their father's shop. She explained that the project was a little less than two years old, and had been a joint project between King Stonehelm and King Brand.

Apparently, on the day before they were supposed to travel, Aaron and Adan received their parcel, but had their instructions replaced. Consequently they went off without their planned escort, and disappeared. Their early departure was discovered after they had left, so a search party consisting of Calådhiel's brother and Ancalime's brother was secretly dispatched to find and protect them. Neither were found, only the two quivers belonging to Aearion and Aldarion. They finished with what they'd learned from the G'Hochx that Adan and Aaron had been captured by Scar, but for some reason they did not immediately leave; then Aldarion and Aearion were captured and all were taken north.

Search parties from Dale found nothing but the two quivers. Then, weeks later Alina had that conviction that Aaron was alive, and told Lona. Lona brought her to Gothweniel. Then the ladies found and convinced Eric and Nergel to go off in search of the cold trail. The trail they did find was the G'Hochx hunting the H'Chyal'ch through the vicinity of the ambush site. Their company followed their trails, only to be ambushed by one and rescued by the other.

As the days continued, their travels took them to the foothills of the mountains. They then had to decide how they should travel, as they still had to travel a great distance east. They had to make a decision between traveling on the edge of woods or along the edge of the mountains further north. They decide to split the difference, and head between the trees and mountains.

At this point, the tenor of the journey became more serious. All but Alina spent significant time on watch, being more cautious of their paths and trails. Meldiron worked with Lona and the two sisters on methods for covering their trail, and how to ride so as to leave a trail easier to hide.

On their third day moving into the mountains, while heading east they found evidence of particularly tall trees having recently been cut down with axes. The two Wargs asked to hunt, and they watched them racing each other for the cover of the rocks to the north. From that point they stayed hidden. The company picked up their pace, following the heavy tracks pulling the trees to the north. Gothweniel and Lona covered the company's tracks. One of the twins came back, reporting to Gothweniel that they spotted humans who were on watch up ahead.

At this, the company went into action. Meldiron watched with quiet amusement as Calådhiel quickly consulted, then directed. They rode to a spot out of sight and dismounted. Meldiron agreed to watch the horses. From their vantage point, they saw two human scouts, and in the distance, four pairs of draft horses each dragging a massive log. After a quiet discussion, they decided to let the humans go speak to them. The elves on the other hand, wished to remain anonymous and scouted. So Eric, Nergel, Ancalime and Alina rode over the ridge towards where teams pulling the the tree-logs were. There are others there on horse back. Two men rode up, but made no effort to draw weapons. They also were being watched, as they had numbers of archers riding at a distance parallel to the teamsters with the large trees. While their accents were heavy, they saw the two women escorted by two obviously well-armed men, introduced themselves and offered hospitality. Recognizing the strangers to be peaceful and probably rich, they welcomed them, not realizing they were being watched as well.

The humans they'd spotted continued riding north, with the teams dragging the huge logs, accompanied by a few carts loaded with tents and tools. They traveled at a gentle, but steady pace for some hours due north, following a shallow valley with a trickle of a stream in it.

In the late afternoon while on overwatch, Gothweniel and the twins spotted other wargs. They signaled her of the danger, who in turn relayed the message to Eric and companions as a call of a northern bird. The humans quickly warned the wood-cutting strangers, who immediately began to form a corral. The elves, realizing that their scent was probably covered, stayed hidden, and watched as the corral was formed of horses and carts, with bows and spears pointed outward. Their leader looked at Eric with amazement as his own scouts rode in from the south east yelling "Wargs approaching!" These men joined the circle, thankful that a defensive posture was already in motion, and three of the four rich strangers had bows ready, including one of the ladies.

Nergal moved into position to shoot with his heavy crossbow, and sighted at the distant ridge. Erik had his long bow ready as well. A double scout party of Wargs cleared the ridge just as the human outriders were joining the defensive ring. Expecting several targets to appear, Nergel let fly as soon as the first Warg cleared the ridge. While he did not appear to hit anything, the bolt flew right between the last two Wargs, and might have glanced off of one. The group, seeing they had lost their surprise, turned back over the ridge, apparently running away.

Gothweniel, watching from the opposite ridge, gave a 'stay alert' call. One of the twins approached her, and in his wargish way said that the wargs they'd just seen would come back, probably with help. After a time, the humans broke down their temporary corral and hitched up the teams. This time the human scouts were up riding along the ridges, and quite a bit more nervous. As they were moving, they were accompanied by the four human strangers and the pack horses.

Their leader asked Sir Eric how he knew the wargs were approaching before their scouts did. Eric mentioned that he has foresters with him, who were also scouting. His answer, apparently difficult for the man to understand, left him nervous. Clearly their own scouts had not seen the Wargs advancing in time, or these foresters. He was thankful none of them had became casualties.

Eric, noticing the man's discomfort, left Nergel and the ladies with the teamsters and rode over to the ridge where he suspected the elves were. Pausing for a while on the ridge as the men continued north, he noticed that the Twins were there among the rocks. He smiled and quietly called to them. Meldiron came out from nearby rocks and waved. He told Eric they shouldn't take the twins anywhere near the humans. Eric then explained that they should work to gain the trust of these people, and let them meet at least some of the elves. With that, Lona and Meldiron with their horses went up to say hello to the woodcutters. Calådhiel and Gothweniel stayed back with the twins, both watching and smelling the wind.

The men were quite taken aback by Lona and Meldiron. But they continued moving north. After a few leagues, they worked their way up a trail across the low ridge to the east, and continued north east. The elves occasionally spotted a warg watching them in the distance. By evening, they arrived at another ridge with a few houses, with lots of animals out grazing, including herds of smallish horses. As they passed the houses, they saw a large village surrounded by a strong palisade. The village sat at a narrow in the mountain river, up from the flood plain. Here was a large bridge that spanned the river and it's shallow gorge. They called it the 'bridge town.'

The man they were with explained that the massive trees they were dragging were for the bridge, else for houses or palisade. Calådhiel and Gothweniel remained outside the palisade with their two Wargs. Recognizing the danger of their animosity toward the wargs, they remained hidden in the woods nearby. Meldiron picked up quite plainly that these people would kill any warg on sight for any reason. Apparently they had lost quite a bit to them over the past two years, and not just property.

The reception they received was quite mixed. While the men on the big horses received a number of comments, they were all strangers and everyone had a difficult time understanding what they were saying. If Alina or Ancalime spoke slowly, they could be understood, but the townsfolk were hard to understand. For a fee, they were given a meal and their horses were stabled for the night, but the situation was not exactly hospitable. Eric tried to explain who they were, without saying much about why they were there. The village seemed to do most of its decision making in the open, in the town square. There was a lot of discussion about the wargs spotting them, and Nergel's scaring them off with a crossbow bolt. They appeared to have a lot of fear, if not outright terror and hatred for the wargs. Their word for them seemed most like an old Westron word for 'devil.' Or 'demon.'

In what appeared to be normal custom, the field animals were being brought in, and the calls went out, and the town gates were prepared to be closed for the night. The members of the party discussed with themselves the danger of staying outside the gate, especially when they knew they had been tracked by hostile wargs. This was quite the challenge, and they knew they had little time to make something happen. Staying outside meant probable if not certain death. At least for the wargs. Bringing the words inside also meant probable death. Ancalime noted, "but they were so taken with you Lona, I wonder that we could influence them somehow. To see the twins not as a threat, but as allies."

Meldiron commented, "For certain, they were dazzled by you. They couldn't keep their eyes off of you." Eric and Nergel nodded. They had been witnesses to the townsfolk's response. He spoke the truth, but then they weren't surprised either. It it taken them weeks to get used to being among the three Elven ladies ladies with out constantly being distracted.

This sparked some insight in Lona; a grin spread across her face and she pulled Alina and Ancalime close to each other. They whispered among themselves coming up with a plan; the man sat a little dismayed as the saw smiles and grins over whatever they were discussing. This made no sense given the tenseness of their predicament. Staying out at night would mean certain death.

At last Ancalime explained to them they were the beauties and the wargs their beasts, and they would use their influence to sway crowd; Lona refined the plan: They should ride in _on_ the wargs and sway the crowd, out in the open. No veils. Armed, wearing their best. The warrior princesses and their wolf escort. _Draug_ _Bereth._ The men now understood their odd responses. It took a bit to sink in. The idea certainly had merit, and Nergel nodded his head - it was a bold move. Meldiron pointed out that there were risks - they could simply refuse the gate, or worse - attack. Eric pointed out that he and Nergel had sensed nothing but fear and loathing for Wargs. But a bold move made sense. It could easily carve out space to talk the crowd down off the ledge of unnecessary violence. Ancalime was the first to speak their mutual agreement. "Go Lona. We'll see you on the inside of the gate. And may blessings of the Valar be with us."

Lona went outside before the gate closed, carrying some clothing for Gothweniel and Calådhiel. When she found them, she explained the hostility they'd experienced, and that if they left the twins outside, they would be caught and killed. They all knew that the likelihood of them being hurt by the townsfolk was small, but the twins - that was another question. Inside, the twins _might_ be killed. Outside, they most certainly would.. Lona explained, "I know they are humans, but no veils. We're going into the town, and impress them. Either we will sway them, or die trying." Then she explained the _Draug Bereth_ plan. Calådhiel was a little hesitant, but Gothweniel was completely in agreement. They quickly prepared their dress and hair for a dramatic entry. Gothweniel asked her sister, "Calådhiel- what if you don't just escort. Do you think you could ride one of the twins?" She then discussed it with the two Wargs how they would do this, and how they must respond if they were to protect their little pack. Gothweniel took the lead.

Inside the town, they waited an hour for Lona and companions to get prepared. After the gate was shut, and the time past, Ancalime changed into her best clothes (well, actually the only change of clothes she had) and wearing a Cyclas boldly stitched with her family arms, boldly went up to the gate. She called aloud, as the daughter of Eldecar, of the House of Vandemere of Dale, demanding that the gate be opened for her. She went slowly, attracting attention and when they finally opened it, she made certain the gate was wide for everyone to see. Then she walked outside the gate.

From a very visible point just outside, Ancalime commanded the crowd to listen. She told them that their fear of wargs is well-placed, but not completely. For the wargs too have their place among men. She then commands them to,"wait for the _Draug Bereth_ to arrive." This drew quite a bit of attention, and much of the town came out into their street near the gate; many were armed. With Ancalime just outside and the gate open, the gate keepers watching nervously, prepared to close it quickly if the need arose. On clear evenings like this, they'd seen sheep taken without warning from right outside the gate. She gave a call, and looked toward a copse of trees; a return call echoed back to her.

Gothweniel was leading, with a Warg at her side. As they got close to the gate, Calådhiel mounted the other twin side saddle. With Lona and Gothweniel on each side, the three women approached the gate, with their hair in curls flowing in the evening breeze. The Wargs were agitated. As they drew close to the gate, they could smell the fear in the crowd. The twin on Gothweniel left locked up, but calmed down as she sang a song in orcish. Gothweniel sang a gentle song to her frightened charges. Lona picked up the song quietly. The quiet strains echoed back to the town, growing louder as they approached. As they heard the strange melody, a hush came over the crowd. The crowd heard the strange words from these three beautiful women. To Ancalime's ears, only Aunt Gothweniel could make those Orc syllables beautiful to hear.

The three neared Ancalime, who stood fearlessly while her friends approached. Suddenly the crowd recognized the beasts being escorted. Immediately an angry murmur rose among the townsfolk, and they could see weapons readied, and a move started to close the gate. At this, Ancalime spoke up, "Hold!" In her best commanding voice, then she echoed, "Let the beauties and the beasts enter! Hear them out." They listened. A hushed silence went over the crowd as the three stunning women entered the town escorted by two of 'the devils'. They walked up to Ancalime and the gates closed behind them. The townsfolk, many of whom were armed, all but surrounded them.

Ancalime stepped aside, and the three stopped when Calådhiel dismounted. Alina joined them in the middle, while Eric, Nergel and Meldiron looked on nervously from the edge of the circle. Not commanding, the two wargs gathered next to Gothweniel, laying down at her feet when she knelt down and asked.

Someone in the crowd shouted something. Alina translated as "They'e Killers!" Ancalime answered back loudly, "If they are killers, then why should we be alive? They have been our escort for weeks, because your enemy is their enemy." Silence followed these words.

Again, another shouted phrase came from the crowd, followed by another and a third. The crowd responded "Yeah" with angry tones. Alina translated: "So you say 'They are wargs' and that 'They have killed more of us and our livestock then we can count.' Then most certainly that 'These last two years have been hell.'" She pauses to see if she was understood.

Eric took command. "People - we know _these_ wargs did not; and we did not."

"How can ye ken that?" A man's voice rang out.

Eric explained briefly the situation, and the civil war among the wargs that brought these two wargs to their country as allies. He spoke slowly, deliberately, allowing his words time to register. Pausing just long enough to be sure they could hear, but not giving them time to reply. Mixed emotions murmured through the crowd. He explained the different marks of wargs. How they are not the same, that they have identities. The "Scars" are controlled. The "Baldies" are not. These two 'little' wargs helped them spot the big wargs that tracked their logging party from the south. They not only protected them, the protected the woodcutters as well. He ended on a strong note: "Ask those riding with us. Were they not saved by a good warning? These wargs helped us give you the warning you needed to not be their prey. Now we ask you for sanctuary from their enemies and yours."

With this, the crowd in bridge town was quiet, but less tense. A few still stared in amazement at the three stunningly beautiful women and their incredibly ugly giant 'pets'. Both wargs remained next to Gothweniel, who knelt down to touch them, with her bow sticking high above her head. The whispered phrases of 'look at her,' 'wolf queen' and 'she commands them' could be heard.

As they murmuring slowly died, Ancalime and Alina approached the man who was most vocally against the wargs. He turned out to be the son of the mayor, and had lost a child to the wargs last summer. He stared in amazement, and wouldn't step near the three elves and their ugly charges. But a few children did. The crowd went silent. The two Wargs ignored them, but Lona did not. One little girl leaned out with her nose. "They smell bad" she said. Nodding, Lona answered with a gentle look, "Yes, especially when they are wet." Surprised, everyone laughed. The little girl ran back to her parents. The other children nearby repeated the foreign phrase "Draug bereth," pointing to Gothweniel. Many stood and watched, but others started milling about the evening business, voting with their feet. Some stood to gawk at the beautiful women, only to have a wife or girlfriend take their hand and lead them away.

It was a victory; Lona's idea had won the battle without blood. They had a place to rest, and another opportunity to understand how the rise of the wargs had been happening. A very few stayed, including the young inquisitive girl and her parents. The man offered them a barn where they could hid their two 'devils' safely and find rest. They followed him there, and paid the man to stable their horses. The men took the horses in, while the women waited outside. While they transacted this business with the strangers, many of their neighbors looked on, or listened from the shadows.

The husband emerged from their barn. The wife stood watching with the daughter, a toddler girl and carrying an infant. The elder girl reached out to touch the nearest Warg. Gothweniel immediately stopped her. "They are not tame, little one. You must ask their permission. Let me show you." She asked the female twin if she could touch her. It ignored her, and Gothweniel stroked its fur. The little girl copied her behavior. The Warg ignored her, and the girl touched the beast. Gothweniel then returned the ebullient girl to her parents, who'd been watching with trepidation. "She is very brave. You have been blessed with a good girl."

The mother spoke first. " _Draug Bereth_ , we have been blessed by ye. If ye can somehow break their power, we would be so grateful. These two years and more have been nothing but blackness because of these beasts. You are the first light that has come to us. Please help us."

Gothweniel did not know what to say. She could not lie, but she knew that Elven bluntness would not serve well. But Alina whispered something to Ancalime, and Ancalime spoke. "We will."

She paused, realizing that there were more listeners than just the couple. And that maybe she was speaking to herself as well. She spoke again, but with with more confidence. "We will. We came here to help them," and here she pointed to the twins and added a Goblin phrase meaning, "to lick their blood." The two Wargs perked up immediately, and her listeners clearly understood that what she was speaking held meaning for the 'devils'.

Ancalime switched back to Westron, "and to help them bleed the Scars. And we will. We too have a score to settle."

With that word of confidence, they saw hope light up in the two parents' eyes. The woman spoke next, "What are your names, brave ladies? That we may pray for you."

Gothweniel involuntarily smiled her captivating smile. Ancalime answered, "I am Ancalime Vandemere of Dale. These are Gothweniel and Calådhiel, daughters of Vanesse of the Greenwood. This is Lona, daughter of Alyan of the Greenwood, and Alina, daughter of Mark of Dale. Our escorts, Lord Meldiron of the Greenwood, Sir Eric Belfolas and Nergel son of Docuress, both of Dol Amroth are in the barn."

Alina, also realizing that there were more listeners, concluded the introduction. "Your prayers and good wishes are most welcome." Her clear voice rang true in the evening twilight.

Surprised at the unexpected turn of events, the two adults looked at each other with a mutual insight: they had something to hope for. Holding hands, they bid the beautiful strangers something that sounded like 'goodnight,' and the two parents and their children retired for the evening. The _Draug Bereth,_ her 'devils' and companions joined the men in the barn.


	7. Chapter 7: Warrior Princess

**Chapter 7: Warrior Princess**

The customs of the town were quite different than those of Dale or the Greenwood. No one offered them hospitality- and there was no inn. Most people stayed away from the strangers, although there was interest in boarding their big horses, as there was clearly money to be made. From the Southerners' perspective, the townsfolk clearly did not know how to handle guests. While they had a clean barn to stay in, they still needed food.

Once the horses and The twins were settled, Alina, Eric and Ancalime made various inquiries. They managed to get a hot meal for the four elves, and eventually returned to the barn where they would rest for the night. It was a bit less than they expected, but it was still dry and warm. It belonged to the family of the little girl who had walked up to the three elves. As the lead Draug Bereth, Gothweniel stayed with the Wargs through the night.

Alina noted that she felt quite at ease with these people, even though she felt exceptionally tall. Her perception was that she was the tallest person in the village. On one hand, it seemed strange to be on such close intimate terms with Ancalime, who ranked so far above her own family station, or with the elves. For weeks she'd been treated as an equal, taught things, respected, even asked for her opinion. They'd been genuine, especially Ancalime, who spent time over their many, days of peaceful riding asking her about her family, getting her to tell stories about her brother, and sharing a few of her own. She had even asked about her opinions, or more generally her father's opinions of Dale politics and society. It was strange, as if her opinions mattered. She'd been taught that nobles only spoke with their own kind, unless it was for business. Here among these townsfolk she felt those differences again. To the townsfolk, she appeared as another of these noble women, riding a horse, cloaked and armed with sword and dagger.

When they finally got to the barn, it was late, and she was exhausted. After the tense and exciting entry into the town and she finally laid down to rest, she found herself somewhat agitated. And she couldn't place why. She sensed cold, and tired and worn out, but she was not really any of these things. Following Meldiron's instructions, she nudged Lona, and related it to her. "Perhaps that is your brother?" Even knowing that he was alive, did not seem to calm her. She finally allowed the sensation to churn into a word, "Hunted. I feel hunted, Lona."

Her friend replied, "That is probably true." With that, Alina could finally close her eyes and sleep. But Lona did not. Between the triumph of the evening entry and the foreboding of Alina's dream she could only think of the risks of the morrow. Everything they'd learned from the twins said there would now be scouts out there to follow them, and bring a band of hunters to kill them, or worse. With that thought, she could only rest, not sleep, thinking of how to make the next encounter with the Scars less hazardous. She doubted it could be avoided. From everything they'd seen and heard, this was their country.

After dawn broke in the bridge village, there was a distress call from a watchtower. Nergel, Alina, Ancalime and Lona gathered at the barn where the men were. The two Wargs were awake, and somewhat agitated. On questioning them, Gothweniel gathered that they sensed that another pack was outside. Meldiron and Eric didn't hear the call. The ladies knocked at the door to where Eric and Nergel had slept. Nergel answered, looking like he needed more rest; apparently the clean stable wasn't that comfortable. While various of the townsfolk had been alert on the walls, no attack had broken out. Gothweniel knew that if they hadn't taken the risk of the town, there would have been blood to pay. Draug Bereth had worked.

They spent the next day in the little town. The mayor of the town made it clear that they expected their two devils to stay in the barn, which they did. Their morning outriders reported Warg scouts, but no major incursions. Apparently some wargs had been spotted in the distance, perhaps 1/2 mile from the town. Surprisingly, this appeared to be normal.

The day was spent resting. Their silver coinage was very welcome, as were Lona, Alina and Ancalime. The other strangers all seemed too dangerous or foreign to interact with. Lona and Alina happily bartered their way through the town for all of the supplies they needed and then some. Eric and Nergel separately talked to different of the men, trying to understand their hatred of Wargs, and more particularly how long it had been a problem. The answers varied, but apparently the last three years had been particularly bad. They used to lose sheep, and the occasional old horse, but starting three years ago they became a regular terror, operating in larger groups, and two years ago with more focused on violence, including killing people. It was very clear that by that time, many of the outlaying homesteads were abandoned, and the walls and watch strengthened. It had clearly been a very difficult two years.

For Ancalime, it was a welcome day to not be in the saddle again. While she loved riding and her horse, she was actually tired of the day-after-day routine. But there was more to her distress than just fatigue. The brief action of the day before had awakened something she couldn't name. She'd felt left out; unnecessary. The strange men had only looked to Eric and Nergel. She and Alina were just baggage. Part of her felt jealous, part of her felt angry. But as she sat in the sunshine looking at the mountains north and east of her, she knew it was something else. She felt resentment- not towards Eric or Nergel or the townsmen, but rather towards her father. Yesterday, she'd been, If but for a few hours, the girl he'd wanted her to be. The noble lady surrounded by knights and sergeants. And she wanted her brother, and ... even in her thoughts she had to pause. She couldn't even voice the feeling to herself: vengeance. She wanted those H'Gochx hunters skinned and drying in the sun, with her wargs licking their blood.

Ancalime decided she needed to clear her mind of the battles and her conflicted feelings. She thought being with people would help, so she went over to spend time with their 'host' family. The young girl had two younger siblings, and a busy mother who was not that much older than Ancalime, probably her mid-twenties. She talked with the girl's mother. The mother's name was Signa, and for a time she watched her at her work, gathering from a garden, arranging food for drying - all the sort of work that the servants at home did, or elves on occasion. Most of this work was outside, and the late-summer day was clear and beautiful. Signa stopped to show her eldest, her 'Wee Signae' how to fix the knitting she was working on. Ancalime was poor at knitting, but good at needle work, so she asked if she could be helpful by mending. While it was clear the noble company was welcome, help was more welcome.

With Signa nursing her infant son, Wee Signae knitting, Ancalime sat mending a jacket while the middle girl played. She started a song, first humming. When it was clear this was welcome, she let her voice continue into simple children's songs she remembered her mother singing to her, or that her nurse had sung to Meneldor. She was so focused on her work and the tunes that she didn't notice that Signa had gently drifted off to sleep, and that Wee Signae had stopped knitting to listen to her. Realizing the hard life that Signa lived, she just sang another song, then another. Mother and son rested in the tune.

She wasn't sure if she should stop or not, when a clear voice behind her picked up the chorus of the Dale folk song. She'd never heard her sing, but she knew that only Alina would know that song. But her voice was astounding. She came in on harmony, with a range that turned her folk song into a beautiful story. Signa woke up to the beautiful sounds, with her cherubic son gently snuggled on her shoulder, she watched a tall young woman with light brown hair sing while she stood over the Lady Ancalime mending her husband's jacket. For a moment she did not know what could have brought these angels to her home.

After the song, Ancalime introduced her. "Signa, this is my friend Alina. She is also from Dale."

"Lady Alina, your voice is angelic. Thank you."

Wee Signae followed her mother's lead, "Pretty ladies, please sing some more."

They sang another folk tune from Dale. They started out together, but on the second verse, when Alina could tell that Ancalime had the tune in hand, dropped to chime in thirds. It was another beautiful performance.

Alina sat down next to Ancalime, and turning to the oldest girl, put out her hand. "I am Alina, daughter of Jenna. Who are you, little one?"

Copying the older woman's diction, she answered, "I am Signa, daughter of Signa."

"I am happy to meet you. What are you making there?"

"I think it is a sock."

"May I help you?"

Signa-the-elder interrupted, "No Lady Alina, that is not necessary."

"I loved knitting at her age. May I?"

"Please momma?"

Signa's afternoon became very different, doing her work, putting together a grand meal for her guests. Ancalime stepped in to help with the food, taking direction from the older woman. Alina worked with Wee Signae on her knitting, and attending to her little sister. But they continued singing, shifting tunes. The taller woman was clearly a better singer, but together they were just beautiful. She had to focus hard to stay on task. Then she noticed her neighbors joining them, sitting with her children, listening. Some neighbors left her some food to contribute to the meal she was preparing for the strangers.

With breaks in between, the two women sang sang after song. For some tunes only one would know the words. But the tunes were so beautiful, and the stories good. Many of the neighbor children were there listening too. The two southern ladies seemed unnaturally gifted, and pleasant beyond words. They also seemed like close friends, bonded. She didn't know that they'd never sung together before, and aside from the close companionship these past few weeks, had hardly laid eyes on each other before.

The afternoon pleasantries went on for a while. Eventually they stopped their show, and the neighbors drifted home. Signa finished preparing the meal. The evening meal was wonderful, and this time the two tall ladies were joined by three ladies of the Greenwood. They were beautiful and sang for the family, heard by the entire neighborhood.

On the next morning, Eric and Nergel stopped to speak with their headman/mayor about directional information, and to see if they could get some guards for a few days. They were not very successful on the latter inquiry. While they were out, Meldiron and the ladies proceeded to pack up their belongings, as well as the new provisions they'd purchased. They ate, and then proceeded to don their armour.

Calådhiel pulled on her own helmet and stepped forward to test Ancalime. "Try it!" She drew her sword on her. Ancalime lost no time, drawing her sword in a flash and swirl of skirt and loose chain. The tiny elf gave her charge no pause and immediately attacked, testing her sword and foot work. Eric was immediately impressed. She was pretty good, actually better than Meneldor had been. Even Meldiron paused to watch the show. "Don't just defend, try to strike her," he added. Ancalime made a few short lunges, and paused to see where she might get past the older woman's defenses. Calådhiel encouraged her, "It's ok. Try to hit me. If you can."

While Ancalime never did succeed, it was clear she was competent, and that a lesser opponent would have serious problems. But their observers saw what the tiny woman was doing - trying to get her winded. Eric picked up that Ancalime was slowing down, being more economical with her motions. Calådhiel landed a blow with the flat of her blade on her shoulder. "Don't get predictable." The second time the faster elf tried the same move, Ancalime took a part of the blow on her armoured forearm, and turned her shoulder and stepped inside Calådhiel's sword length, hitting her with her sword hilt and almost knocking her over. "Well done!" But they all saw that Ancalime was breathing hard.

Pulling off her helmet, Calådhiel ended with, "Aldarion will be proud of you." Ancalime's eyes lit up, and she smiled and stood a little taller despite her heavy breathing. "I hope so, Aunt."

Calathiel smiled too, and nodded as she stepped up to take her hand. "We'll have to get you one of those closed helmets to protect that pretty face of yours." The thought made her want to laugh.

There was something about her proud, glistening look; Alina found herself speechless; she'd seen Ancalime like this before, but she couldn't place the thought. As they walked into the barn, Nergel and Eric were both taken aback. They saw Ancalime bear-headed, with long skirts and boots covered by a gambecon and chainmail down to her knees. Belted and armed, with her long blond hair plaited, she looked as an ancient warrior queen from the songs of ancient Numenor. "My Lady," were the only words Eric could speak. Calådhiel noticed their distraction.

As their morning's entertainment ended, Gothweniel made sure that both women took a long drink of water, and chatted with Ancalime. They all took to competing their tasks, and finishing putting on their own on armour. Only Alina was unarmoured, they having found only some leather vambraces for her forearms and leather greaves to go over her boots. But those remained hidden under her skirts.

As they were mostly outside the barn finishing up, to their surprise a dozen townsmen, mounted on small horses joined them. Apparently on a request (orders) from the mayor, they came in some armour, with a mix of shields, short bows and spears. Knowing their guests were traveling due east, their plan was to escort them out for half a day, and then return before night. They were surprised by the strangers yet again. They'd expected only armed men, but the transformation of the beautiful and noble women into soldiers with heavy leather, or in Ancalime's case, a quilted gambecon and chain hauberk was a bit surprising. They also noticed that among the eight, seven carried powerful bows, and a superabundance of arrows.

As they mounted outside, Alina finally recalled what had paused her to distraction earlier that morning. The moment she saw Ancalime mounted in her armour, she immediately recalled the image she'd had of her weeks ago - with a spear in hand leading men into battle. The image evoked both pride in her friend, and fear for what lay ahead of them. But these feelings she had to keep to herself. She wondered if they would actually come true. To her surprise, she didn't have long to wait.

The whole town turned out to watch them depart through the gate. With their big horses and armour, they attracted different reactions. Gothweniel was in the lead with Meldiron flanked by both wargs. They were given a wide berth. The twins simply ignored everything and trotted next to the horses. Calådhiel and Lona came next, with her helmet under her arm her black hair was striking. Lona could not help but smile and wave, attracting the same from some in the crowd, particularly the children. A few of the young men even involuntarily took off their hats.

Eric and Nergel encased in mail, with a lances and pennants in hand brought more waves, and their big horses walking proudly between the lines of people. They were followed by a dozen armed townsmen, with Ancalime next to their leader, her horse easily a full hand and a half taller than the small horses of the mountains. Alina, right behind her, was taller than either. The rest of the troop and their loaded pack horses followed.

They all went over the bridge, and once on the other side traveled east at a good pace. Their horses were rested and well fed. The townsmen kept to a group, but stayed to the rear, as they wanted to avoid the Draug bereth and her dangerous 'pets.' So the elves stuck to the front, Eric and Nergel remained in the middle. Ancalime and Alina continued among their escort along with their two pack horses.

They kept up a relatively fast pace - a trot interspersed with short breaks to graze or water, and to get the riders out of the saddle and onto on their feet. For Ancalime it was a very strange ride. While the mountain terrain was similar to that which they'd been riding through for days, they now had a goal. Somewhere over the next pass or two was the country where the twins were from, and somewhere east of there, her brother and his companions were slaves, or prisoners. Once in familiar territory, they could have some confidence of finding Aldarion and his companions. That thought lifted her spirits.

But there was more to this ride, this day. She'd worn armour before, but it was a better-fitting hauberk. Last year when Meneldor got this mail, Aldarion decided they both needed practice, and they spent an entire afternoon whaling at each other with heavy sticks. Aearion laughed himself silly watching the two brothers refuse to gang up on her, only to both get dinged in the helmet when because they weren't watching her. And now here she was, in Meneldor's armour (less the helmet) riding for both Aearion and Aldarion. She missed them so much she could cry.

But as she rode, she couldn't cry if she wanted. Around these strange men, she wore the stern, beautiful, proud look her father expected of her. Every comment they made was a social statement, and she replied with formal grace and eloquence. They in turn responded with deference, which she appreciated. Their leader was particularly polite, and talked quite a bit. She and Alina could tell that he did not have a clue how to respond to a warrior woman, particularly one that carried a knight's broadsword and was clearly a better rider. About a half hour past the bridge, one of the men let fly a crude phrase, and Ancalime responded by immediately whipping the man's horse; he went galloping off the trail to the laughter of his mates. She made sure they knew who was the noble here, and what behavior they would tolerate.

But there was something else to this ride. When the town leader stopped chatting, her mind drifted to the last time she had fought the wargs, the day they captured the Scar and slaughtered its hunting party. She'd never killed anything before that. But they had been so busy collecting arrows and questioning the prisoner that she never really processed that she'd actually slain several of the beasts. And here she knew they were being hunted again. This was a grim day, not another exciting adventure following Aunt Calådhiel. This was personal.

Riding next to her, Alina caught on to Ancalime's continued reticence. At first she said nothing, but after the second hour of watching her grim look, she felt obligated to speak. When the men were a bit behind them, she started. "Ancalime, you seem troubled."

She wasn't sure how to reply. Gentle concern of a friend was nowhere near her thoughts or expectations for the day. "No. I am well. A bit warm perhaps in this gambecon."

"That is not what I meant. You seem far more withdrawn than usual."

She was, of course, right. It still surprised her how often Alina was able to discern things from people just by observing them for a while, and listening. "Yes, I guess you are right."

Alina just smiled, and blinked at her, waiting for her friend to respond.

"I am. I am feeling quite cross today; even angry. I want this to be over, and we take our brothers home. But the G'Hochx are in our way. After listening to the stories last night, and knowing the stories from the H'Chyal'ch, I want vengeance; judgment. Now I feel ashamed that I thought that G'Hochx prisoner did not deserve his execution. I feel for the mother who was willing to die for a chance to break his neck."

"But it disturbs you somehow. You seem agitated. I haven't seen you smile but once, when Calådhiel complimented you in the barn this morning. You didn't even smile at your horse, or when you corrected that fellow."

"Yes. I guess you are right."

"You've said that already. Ancalime, you seem troubled. What is troubling you?"

"I am not exactly certain. On one hand, I feel ready for war, to face the violence of the G'Hochx. But I feel torn, like I should not be in my brother's armour, fighting a vicious enemy. Like this is someone else's work."

"Like your father would want you to feel and act?"

Ancalime recalled that she and Alina had spoken several times of their different experiences of their parents, and how much she felt awed, even dominated by her father's expectations. "Perhaps. But I think there is more to it. I feel like I am ready to burst into flames, and I want to just torch the G'Hochx. Burn them in their dens."

Alina reached out with her hand between the two riders. Ancalime reached out and took her hand, with her mailed mitten hanging from her chain sleeve. Alina started. With her face turned to her blonde friend, she looked at her as they rode. "You will do what is right when the time comes. I trust you. Aldarion did not train you for naught. There is a purpose to this, I am sure of it. And we have our parts to play. Even me."

Ancalime closed her eyes for a moment, and squeezed her tall friend's hand. She felt like she could almost feel Alina' sadness for her brother, and that suffering she bore with such grace gave her a renewed hope, a place to let her own sorrow stay, not suppressed, not expressed, but acknowledged. She let her agitation and anger, her doubt and shame drop for a moment, and rather took in the beautiful ride, with a beautiful friend, trusting that whatever would happen next, they'd be there for each other. The she let her hand go, acknowledged her with a nod and smile, and spurred her horse to pick up the pace.

After a few hours out, the elves observed that they were being watched from a distance. When they paused to walk sometime past noon, the townsmen asked to return to their village, noting that they had only agreed to escort them as far as 1/2 day's ride, and that they should return the way they'd just come. Lona explained to their leader that they were all being watched, so moving in the open as they proposed was probably not a good idea.

Almost immediately after saying that, the twin Wargs bolted, running among the rocks along a nearby ridge line while the four elves followed on foot. Their excuse was apparently that they were 'Finally hunting G'Hochx.' The elves watched them closely, as they went up to a group of rocks they dropped down suddenly, obviously having spotted something. Among themselves, Meldiron spotted it first - a hunting party of twelve. Spotting the elves on foot, the Wargs ran toward them. Keeping to the little cover available, they charged up along the rocks toward where the elves were. The twins ran out into the open, hoping to flank their prey, or lure them out where their 'wolverines' claws could reach. At this point a second party of twelve broke out from cover, and into the open. Elvish fire wounded three closing on them among the rocks.

The townsmen rode with spears held aloft at a trot. With two groups of demons that clearly outnumbered them, their townsmen escorts were suddenly hesitant. The armed and armoured Nergel and Eric in front of them immediately spurred their horses towards the bowmen on foot, but the townsmen held back, with Ancalime drifting to the front of their group.

Four wargs charged into the open. The wargs switched their direction towards toward Eric and Nergel. Eric slowed to fire from horseback and just missed the lead warg. That one, several bounds ahead of its companions jumped; But Eric's reflexes were not slow. With a second arrow knocked he turned and instinctively fired, catching the warg just before it leaped. It went crashing to the ground. Nergel steadied his horse, and fired, but his target got into the air before the quarrel buried itself into the beast at point-blank range. Nergel leaned back as 350 pounds of dying Warg aimed to pull him from the saddle managed to go right over, only tearing the reigns and his crossbow from his hands. His horse jerked his head to the right, as Nergel spun with it, presenting his shield side to another incoming Warg. With his heels, his horse leaped forward, forcing the Warg to change its course.

About the same time, Wargs jumped over hill to get at the elves on foot. The four elves went by the rocks to keep the wargs in front of them, and keep themselves from being flanked. The four archers immediately dropped three leading wargs, and the rest of wargs ran to get among them: they all fell. Eric and Nergel saw elves shooting rapidly at point blank range, and then at range as the survivors fled. The two wheeled their horses to go to another round.

In the open, Ancalime saw at least six or eight of the massive wargs charge the twins in a group. A large group against the few. Seeing the massive beasts descend on the two smaller ones snapped something inside her; instead of seeing the little wargs as the smelly enemy, they were hers; her charge; in the swirling dog fight that broke out among the wargs, she could see only her brother's captors. Her eyes narrowed, and she looked around her, and she saw only leaderless men around her holding their reins tight, instead of their spears.

With the slightest pressure of her knee, her horse picked up its pace, and she was next to one of the lead townsmen in an instant. In one fluid motion, she pulled the spear from the man's grasp, and continued riding. While he, and the men nearby stared at her, she just crouched the spear under her arm, lowered the point and spurred her horse into a full out run. "Death!" She called out. "Death!"

With the liberated spear aimed at the flank of the nearest Warg, she outstripped her timid troop on their small horses. Plunging into the swirling melee around the twins she speared a big Warg hard in the flank, and managed to ride on without losing her grip. Plowing into them from the rear, she personally broke up the fight, giving the twins a needed respite. Pivoting, she tucked her spear back under her arm, and watched two wargs turn on her as she bore down on them with point leveled and they just dodged. Two others charged her from the side, and she wheeled to face them, her horse responding perfectly despite its fear. She spurred her horse forward, and leveled the tip on her target. Just before the Warg leaped up at her they connected, and she lost the spear in its target, leaving the shaft sticking out from its neck. The force of the impact put it back on its hind legs before it collapsed thrashing. The other one jumped and missed her, but landed squarely on her horse's rump, pushing het horse until it fell over. In a swirl of skirt and boots, Ancalime leaped clear of the saddle.

Drawing her sword in a practiced flash, she got up with an anger and speed she'd never felt sparring with her brother. With an aggressive swing, she immediately laid open the warg tearing at her horse. She misjudged the distance and caught it with just the tip. It turned on her, and she used both hands on her sword to parry the beast's jaws, the hard slash pushing its face to the side, and drawing the sharp blade down across its throat in one quick movement. It rammed straight into her over instead of biting, spraying her in blood from an open artery. Regaining her stance from the hard blow,, it was just then that she felt the ground shaking.

Her troop had finally caught up, all twelve armed men crying "death" in their hard accent with Alina and other horses charging into what had now become the back of the melee. The townsmen plowed into the action, hurtling their spears at close range and then slashing at whatever Warg they could get near. Alina, riding in the back with her sword drawn yelled, "the little ones are ours!." With the action swirling all around her, another warg charged Ancalime. This Warg missed its leap over its fallen comrades. A sword slash from a horsemen connected and it dodged bleeding.

Caught up in the moment, Ancalime put both hands on her sword hilt and drove it deep into the wounded beast, wrenching it free it time to dodge and parry the attack of another Warg. It knocked her down, while her flashing sword tip opened up its side, again coating her in blood. Several mounted townsmen around her closed on it and attacked. Unable to get to its now-kneeling prey, the townsmen wounded it again, and it fled, leaving five dead wargs laying about Ancalime and her badly injured horse. One of their archers dropped the fleeing Warg before it disappeared over a ridge.

But the melee around the twins had reformed just yards away. Eric and Nergel charged quickly into the knot of fighting around them. Eric lead with Nergel immediately behind him. A big warg leaped up at Eric. He did a shield parry, and the big warg latched unto his shield arm, trying to pull him from the saddle. He hit it hard with his sword. At the second blow, the warg dropped away. One of the twins leapt up onto Nergel's horse, bounding over to the other side. His pursuer leaped up at Nergel from the right, who arrested its motion by twisting in the saddle, punching it square in the face with the leading edge of his shield. The short delay allowed him the time to drop his right shoulder back, and let fly with his war axe, just as another beast clawed the armour on his right leg. Even Eric heard the crunching sound when his axe connected. The big Warg dropped to the ground as the sharp iron broke open its skull. The remaining wargs fled. Nergel and Eric followed, with a few of the village archers behind them in support.

Gothweniel ran to the little wargs. Everyone else turned to look at Ancalime, standing with her hair wild, her spear sticking up out of the neck of a huge Warg on the ground, her armour and skirts covered in blood. She was the image of the victorious warrior princess standing with sword bared amidst the carnage of her dead enemies. The townsmen circled around her on their small horses and cheered. For them the joy at having just defeated so many of their powerful enemies could not be subdued. They'd never seen that many dead wargs, and now there were seven right around them, and more than that over by the elves.

But for Ancalime, it took both hands to hold her sword. Her left arm was so stiff she was surprised she could move it. Her side hurt as well. Alina dismounted immediately and pushed past the township men to reach Ancalime, concerned that some of the blood she was coated with might be hers."I was so afraid for you! Are you hurt?"

Fortunately she was not hurt seriously, and after a bit of mutual prodding, they figured out that almost none of the blood that covered her was actually her own. Lona ran up to help as well. Ancalime was breathing well; she had a nasty bruise on her left arm, and a big bruise on her left ribs, lower down. The two friends walked Ancalime over to her ebullient men. After a bit, they followed her as she walked over to Calådhiel to check on her horse. A few of the men had minor wounds as did some of the horses, but for them to have such a victory over this many wargs was amazing.

Calådhiel had come over with Lona and the other elves. Seeing that Ancalime was being attended, she immediately went to her injured horse. The sight there was not pretty. She laid there with one flank badly torn, and moderate bleeding from several wounds. The small woman deftly pulled the saddle, and worked to staunch the bleeding. Ancalime joined her, angry about her horse, but very thankful for her Aunt's timely help.

Meldiron did the same; noting that Ancalime was in good hands, he went over to help Gothweniel.

Both smaller wargs were bleeding. One was bleeding at its neck, and though it wasn't a pulsing artery, it was still serious. Both elves, much to the amazement of their human escorts, worked hard to staunch the wound. While they were working to heal it, they could tell that it was going into shock, and that if it did, it would probably die unless it got warm. They used blankets from their kit to protect the Warg, and Gothweniel sat with it to keep it calm.

With help from Eric, Nergel and Calådhiel, the townsmen made a wide search, chasing off two scouts that were left behind. They were very thankful and made a point of saying,"Those wargs would have hunted you or us. Separately, either of us might have been killed. Defeating them probably saved us both." They were so elated, and could do nothing but praise Ancalime, and show her the greatest deference. They thought her to be some warrior princess.

The townsmen realized that they would not be able to return home before nightfall. So they decided that they would stay with their powerful companions. With the additional help, setting up and cleaning up the campsite was significantly easier. Alina and Ancalime took time to try to clean her thoroughly bloodstained clothing.

That afternoon, Ancalime's horse died. Keeping the injured warg alive required work, but she was responding. Later that afternoon, Nergel and Eric erected one of their tents over her for the night. She responded well, but they took no liberties with her care. It's twin went for a walk in the night, being on guard up on the ridge a few hundred yards from the horses and the tent. Calådhiel went out to watch with him.

Before the sun went down, there was a strange moment when Ancalime remembered that Alina had envisioned this day's action many weeks ago. "Do you remember telling me that you saw me leading men into battle?"

Alina thought about it for a few moments before she replied, "Yes, but what happened was not exactly like I saw today; in the vision there were fewer men, and I thought you had a shield. And they stayed closer to you." She paused to smile, "And I don't recall your battle cry either. But the rest of it was the same. Even the two Wargs that you speared. But I didn't know what happened next; I was so afraid for you."

While Alina thought this was quite matter-of-fact, Meldiron, Ancalime, Lona, Gothweniel and Calådhiel all knew this was anything but normal. In fact her pointing out the details made it very clear that she was both an excellent observer of what just happened, and of the vision she'd had weeks ago. It was uncanny.

They set up camp. The townsmen set up their own impromptu camp with their own fire. While they also had men on watch, they seemed elated and relaxed around the fire singing and talking quite a bit amongst themselves in their strange dialect. As the discussion continued, noticeable shame echoed; they realized that they were not responsible, rather that they responded to their warrior princess who had lead them into battle. Nergel, listened in on their conversations. He had a difficult time understanding the talk, so he got some help from Alina. Between the two of them, they realized the townsmen were telling and retelling the story of how Ancalime had taken their spear, and single-handedly defeated not one, but three wargs by herself, and emerged from the battle soaked in the blood of their enemies. The two both smiled in the darkness, and while they weren't quite certain, they thought the count in the story had gone from thee to six by the time they went to sleep.

Their injured Warg made it through the night, so they were hopeful she would mend. The next morning Ancalime was also better, if very stiff. The townsmen departed for the west and their homes; before they left they asked for the spear Ancalime had used and then gave her another one and one of their horses to take with her. They also emptied their provisions with the brave southerners. Eric and the elves spent time recovering their arrows. Nergel spent time repairing his crossbow, and they gathered some wood to burn the bodies of the wargs. Fourteen had been killed outright, and a fifteenth was found later that day. They easily could have followed the blood trails to the north, but decided against it.

By the middle of the next day, the injured Warg was clearly stabilized. It was all they could do to keep it from going hunting again, Not ready for combat, it was still ready to move and eat. The elves, going wide to ensure they were not being themselves hunted, managed to catch a deer, which they shared with the wargs.

As they traveled east, they saw normal signs for these high regions. They did not travel hard, both for the sake of a still-sore Ancalime and for their injured Warg. So they found shelter among rocks and trees early, and long before night they rested again. They took the precaution to not light a fire. Still the wargs managed to catch something for themselves. After midnight, Meldiron tapped Eric whispering 'Get up' in Sindarin. The less injured twin quietly said, "orcs come." The companions got up, quietly arming. As they laid waiting, they sensed a group approaching. Speaking to the Warg, Meldiron said in the Goblin tongue, "Speak. Tell him to 'pass on'." The Warg did, with the clear growling voice seemingly loud in the night. A quiet orcish voice replied 'who goes' and the warg answered. The orc warned them about 'elf warriors'. A small conversation ensued, ending with the Warg speaking back, "Leave us."

However, as the band of orcs prepared to go another way, they smelled the horses; with a war cry they immediately attacked. "Liar" came from several sets of lips and the orcs charge from three different directions. Nergel and Eric each held the flanks, while Elvish arrows dropped four leaders immediately. Alina, standing next to Ancalime swung with her sword and missed, surprising the Orc by her height and long reach. But Ancalime noted its pause to avoid the long reach and hit hard, slashing across its exposed chest. Following with what Aldarion had trained her to to, she stepped into the blow and immediately spun back from the left, landing the back edge of her blade on the side of the orc's head below its helmet. It stopped the blow, and dropped like a stone. The orcs were surprised at elves and women in tight formation suddenly wielding swords. As Meldiron, Lona, Calådhiel and Gothweniel stepped outward, firing again and again, they heard the Orcish word "elves" and watched them turn and run away. In the end, seven were left dead or dying on the ground. At least two of their arrows had legs carrying them away.

Eric complimented Meldiron on his idea to use the wargs to put the Orcs off the scent. For his part, Meldiron was impressed with his charges; Nergel and Eric climbed up another notch in his assessment, both having successfully held off three or four each in the dark, keeping the Orcs from overwhelming them. But he was more concerned for what this meant - clearly the wargs that had escaped had communicated with the Orcs; there were other packs engaged and growing, not just Scars and Baldies; and orcs, unseen for decades, were now up and about, and moving east through the mountains in some force. Eric commented, "They know about us. That is bad. We should move out as fast as we can manage." Everyone packed up quickly and they started moving before dawn. A very different realization was that now Ancalime, Nergel and Eric were the first ones in their families to see an orc, much less cut one open. Prior to this night, they'd all thought they were creatures that only lived in bards' tales.

The next day they spent riding. They continued east and north into the mountains and by nightfall, they got to a point where the twins recognized land that they had seen before. They told Gothweniel, "We go to my home? We go." They also communicated that they were approaching land that the land the scars controlled. The twins spent the next morning hunting, with some small success. After their return from their little feast, Gothweniel spent time asking them about their familiarity with the area. The Twins vaguely remembered being in places like this. Their lead took them further up into the mountains. Meldiron agreed with Eric that there was something very strange about the women they'd both come to escort - they were all incredibly brave, or lucky, or both.

With Meldiron 's direction, Alina had been taking time each night and morning quieting herself, and letting her thoughts stream by. While usually this meant little, or seemed to, it did relax her. But periodically she'd notice that sense of her brother, an idea of how he was feeling, that was not just herself. But for the past several days, she could not sense that anything was different in her sense of her twin. The sense she had was that of cold and dark; of constant fatigue, and fear.

Meldiron and Gothweniel took their turn on foot covering the horses' tracks. Moving quickly, they noticed that a lot of the ground looked as if it had been recently grazed, even overgrazed in spots as if sheep had been there only days ago. They kept moving, carefully keeping to the geography so they could not be seen at a distance. In the distance they spotted some unusually large Elk. Eric suggested that they take the horses around the northern base of the next peak and let two elves go up the peak to scout. The elves saw something in the distance to the south and east moving along what looked to be a well-worn trail. They stayed out of sight and went looking for more vantage points.

The party continued riding north and and east, moving carefully from each promontory to the next, taking advantage of each vantage point to pick their route to stay out of sight. It was at one of these that they spotted some movement to the south. This was a groups of people with carts moving from the west to east. A group consisting of a Lona, Meldiron and Ancalime went to investigate. It took them an hour or so to get there, and they found a point where there was cover. When they got to the path, they discovered that it was a trail marked with pony tracks and wagons. Their two 'little' Wargs went on both sides of the trail, following the little group. They raced it for about 1/2 league, noting that it had been recently used, and certainly had been used in the past. It traveled almost due east, but they chose not to follow too far, at much of the trail was exposed. They carefully returned to rejoin their company north of them, working their way north by remaining in the shadows and among the rocks and trees. From the scat and prints they found, it was easy to observe that the cart people were being tracked by the wargs.

After reporting what they found, they continued their quiet ride east. They traveled several leagues east, staying out of sight, and keeping the trail they had found out of sight to the south. At on point that day, they were on the edge of a copse of trees, the twins dropped to the ground. Calådhiel, near the edge of the tree line, spotted a warg at about 50 yards. As she raised her bow, two things happened - her companions pulled their bows, and she watched it bolt to escape. In a flash she fired at it, wounding it. It stumbled but continued to run. But it was in the open, and they were not. By the time it got another 50 yards, four more arrows and a crossbow bolt had gone in its direction, with two connecting. Calådhiel, Lona and Eric cleaned up the dead warg, to limit its trail and smell. They collected all six arrows and covered their and the Warg's tracks. They considered themselves extremely fortunate, as the lone Warg had to have been caught by surprise. But it was unusual for a Warg to be alone. They decided that they needed to shift their motion, with one of them scouting ahead.

Several more days of travel took them deeper and higher into the mountains. They paralleled the path to the south, and while they moved quickly, they were cautious about the wind, and avoiding long spaces in the open. The weather was a cool at night, and it was a bit unpleasant without a fire. But they knew that smoke would bring watchers and then hunters upon them. The twins were now on familiar ground, and lead them further north to avoid areas where there would be dens. At one point, they had a very clear view of a mountain to the south with three peaks. Some smoke came from the south, a wisp either from the mountain side or even the southern most of the three peaks.

The twins briefly explained that their old dens were just east of that mountain, on the other side lower down. It was clear that the trail would take them in that direction, to a pass just south of the triple peaks. Rather than go up the pass where the trail ran, they decided to go around the peak to a pass further north. This would avoid the known area where the trail ran, and where the G'Hochx were clearly patrolling.

At one point, they recognized there was a broad stretch of open ground to cover. They decide to go at night, but sent Lona, Eric and Calådhiel to quietly scout ahead. A few hours later, almost as soon as they stepped out of supporting distance, they were spotted by a hunting pack. They called out a warning, and Meldiron immediately noticed the call. The mounted party advanced to support, but they arrived to see the aftermath.

Fortunately the group was small, only five wargs. They spotted the three people on foot, and immediately charged. In the time they could see them, Lona, Eric and Calådhiel manged to get off two quick volleys; of these, they hit two Wargs, one apparently twice, but none dropped. Eric stepped in front of the women. With his third shot, he side stepped the lead warg, firing his bow at point blank range just before the warg boweled him over. Both went to the ground.

While Eric took the brunt of the leader, Lona fired and hit the Warg charging behind it, tripping the Warg as the arrow went through its shoulder. The stumbling Warg would have knocked Calådhiel over, but she stepped out of its way, pausing just long enough to jab the arrow in her hand into the struggling warg on the ground. Without missing a beat, she jerked the arrow from its chest cavity and fired it at the wounded warg charging her. Both were hit. The remaining two wargs jumped at Eric as he pulled his sword. Eric dodged one, but the second one warg managed to get its teeth clamped on his armoured forearm. It began to throw him with a powerful turn of its body. Just as the Warg pulled him over, Eric snapped out with his sword and took off a chunk of its forepaw. Both went spinning to the ground.

One of the wounded wargs loped at Calådhiel and she put another arrow into it at close range, stepping back out of its path. A few feet in front of her, Lona killed the one that threw Eric down. Eric stood up, panting for breath. The two elves ensured that the bodies about them were dead, and collected their arrows. The dead were all G'Hochx. As the horses cleared the ridge behind them, the three started their hike back, only to meet their companions coming up with the horses. They mounted, advancing northeast quickly as the light faded. Meldiron and Gothweniel took their turn covering tracks.

As darkness fell, the evening breeze from the west carried the smell of fresh blood up to the two H'Chyal'ch. As they entered into what used to be their home territory, they both were pleased. They liked their wolverines. They had behaved well against the Orcs. They pleasantly sensed that it would not be the only evening spent smelling the blood of their enemies.


	8. Chapter 8:The Wandering Elector

**Chapter 8: The Case of the Wandering Elector**

Cassius was the son of Bjeorn, captain of the Company of Northern Bowmen. This was a successful mercenary company recruited mainly from these northern parts, and trained as experts with heavy crossbows. His father had founded the company twenty years ago, and they were almost always in the service of the King of Gondor. His father had recently died, and on his deathbed asked his son to seek out someone in the far north, and deliver a small packet to them.

So it was that he was riding north toward the grey mountains to deliver a letter and a package to someone who lived in these parts, south of the mountains and not far from Dale. The man he needed to find was a nobleman named Sir Alfred Rated. He was traveling with his Father's elvish-made sword at his side, and a second riding horse carrying his belongings, mostly armour and weapons. He was not sure if he would return south to the Company, but he knew that even after this visit north, he would be welcome there. The Company would hold an election in the Spring, before the campaign season, and was expected, if not required to be there.

The long road took him through Gondor and past the White City. Eventually, up past Esgaroth, also called Laketown, and then upriver towards Dale. Asking directions, he found that he needed to go west of Dale, on the north side of the Woodland River. On his way, Cassius spent time talking to various tavern keepers and while learning very little, his curiosity about his visit north weighed on him, and nothing he encountered even remotely suggested that his father Bjeorn ever lived in these parts.

He finally arrived on lands he thought to be those of Sir Rated. As he stopped at a tavern, he then noticed a few glances among them, and that after inquiring about Bjorn, suddenly they sound a bit nervous or scared. They did tell him where Sir Rated lived, and how to get to the manor house. Shortly after he sat to eat, a boy left the tavern in a bit of a hurry and didn't re-enter. He politely excused himself and spotted the boy running up the hill. The people were almost pleading, with excuses that he shouldn't go just yet.

Cassius ignored them. He followed the road on horseback, and when the boy caught sight of his big warhorse clomping along at a brisk pace, he started running away screaming. Cassius caught him, but the boy was so distraught he was completely unintelligible. The local accent didn't help either. Eventually he managed to get the lad to calm down, and to explain his oddly-timed errand. The boy was apparently told by his elders to tell 'the castle people' that a dark-skinned person with money was asking for a "Bjeorn" person. Cassius gave the boy a ride to where he was heading, and a coin for his trouble. When they got to the top of a defensible promontory, he found a well situated manor house. A sergeant in good livery stopped him. Cassius responded using his southern accent, which oddly drew suspicion, something he was not used to.

The sergeant on duty asked him to "state your business!" Cassius switched to his northern accent, and replied that he was a traveling knight, and only sought a night's hospitality. The sergeant explained that his lord was not here but the lady of the house was. After looking him over he added that the lady of the house would probably agree to see him. They let him in, and sent a servant to get his other horse and belongings from the tavern downhill. He watched with some amusement as the servants scrambled to set a meal. Eventually a well-dressed and well-spoken woman arrived, announced as "Lady Linota Rated." Looking at her, he noticed that she was not that old, and imagined she would be about the age of his mother if she'd lived. The lady welcomed him, and he introduced himself as "Sir Cassius of Dol Amroth". She immediately paused, and took an unusually close look at his face. Watching her face go white, Cassius thought to himself that she looked like she was about to faint.

Shaking her head, she quickly recovered her composure and directed him to a well-furnished room. A stocky manservant attended them. She then introduced him to the servant as "the young and handsome Sir Cassius" and turning to him, graciously asked him to tell the story of why he was in these parts, and why he was searching so earnestly for Sir Alfred Rated. Then she asked who was the Bjeorn he'd been reported to mention. Here Cassius's explained that he was simply executing a debt of honor.

"How so?" The lady of the house inquired.

Cassius proceeded to explain not quite the whole story. He explained how Bjeorn had been a great mercenary captain, and that he owed Bjeorn a great deal; how he himself had been born in Dol Amroth, raised by a family of fisherman, and that at age ten Bjeorn, a long friend of the family had taken him on as a page in his service. As Bjeorn's page and eventually squire, he grew in stature and educated. Trained as a fighter and a leader, he very much looked up to Bjeorn. In his service as a squire, he'd been to the White City and had even met Ellesar, the High King If Gondor. Even though he'd been knighted, he looked on Bjeorn more as a father than Lord, as many of the younger men did.

Then this Spring, Captain Bjeorn was wounded in a battle with the Southrons, but unlike so many times in the past, he did not recover. Instead he'd taken ill and proceeded to sicken and waste away unto death. He explained to her that on his deathbed, he had entrusted to him a letter, written in his own hand some time long before. The letter was addressed to a knight, Sir Alfred Rated of Dale. Cassius was instructed that after his death, he was to travel north deliver the letter and present it to the knight, along with a small box. He was then to inform the knight of circumstances of his death.

"Young man, do you understand why you are to tell Sir Alfred of these circumstances?" She inquired.

"No my lady." He replied politely and mostly truthfully, observing her response. She was clearly an intent listener, but displayed little else.

The lady then, following the customs of those in the countryside, invited Cassius to stay the night as their guest. She explained that Sir Alfred was expected home the next day. He accepted.

"Can you tell me how Captain Bjorn died?" She inquired. He proceeded to tell the lady that story. Then he told her about how Bjeorn spent his last hours, and how he'd spoken the name "Genevieve" fondly, someone with whom he would be united in death. At this, she seemed a bit diverted, and when she could finally speak, she changed the topic to small talk, mostly prying stories about his being a knight in Dol Amroth. Cassius told a number of cleaned-up tales of his service with Bjeorn and his own knighting by the Duke of Dol Amroth.

Later that evening, Cassius afforded himself of some private time to explore the house and grounds. The house, though fortified, was very well set and decorated richly. It included a small library of a quality that he did not expect for the relatively-remote holding. On examining the few pictures about, he noted that the knight of the house, Alfred Rated was probably Bjeorn's brother, as the likeness was plain. The knight's family also quite noticeably did not have any children. The library included a book on the family. Alfred was listed as the younger of two surviving brothers. This was a bit surprising to Cassius, as previously there was no indication to Cassius that his father had been a knight, and he never had spoken of his family. But he always went out of his way to welcome people from the north, particularly those from Dale and Erebor. In his mind he started piecing together more of the secrets that his father had never shared, but clearly wanted him to know.

As expected, that evening Sir Alfred returned. He and his wife held a private dinner for Cassius. Cassius informed them that Sir Alfred's brother Bjorn had a son; at this pronouncement, both were confused and surprised. He told them that the child was now 19. Lady Rated immediately got up and left the room apparently crying.

With both men standing, Cassius told Sir Rated that he was sent to find them, and to collect the child's inheritance. Sir rated now shifted from surprise to concern. Sir Alfred said that he would like to see the young man first. Cassius replied "you are looking at him." He then gave Sir Alfred the box and the letter from his father. The knight looked serious, as if there was an enemy or imposter before him. He received the letter, broke open the seal and read it silently. As he read, his face dropped. At that point his his wife reentered the room. He invited Cassius to sit with them and to tell his whole story.

They talked about Bjeorn. Cassius then proceeded to explain how his _father_ Bjeorn was a trained soldier, and had raised the Company of Northern Bowmen, or simply, _The Company_. This was made up mainly from men from the north, who wanted to serve King Ellesar in the continuing wars with the Southrons and Easterlings. He himself was born in Dol Amroth, but that he never knew his mother, who died in childbirth while his father was away on campaign. Cassius was raised by a family of fisherman until he was ten, and had little contact with his father up to that point. He at first thought the fisherman's family was his own kin, or his mother's, for on their visits, they all got along very well. He added, "her name was Genevieve. Father hardly ever used her name, it hurt him so. Up until the end, that is."

For Alfred, it was a moment of insight when he heard this somewhat remarkable young knight speak that name. He couldn't place it, but it was if many little pieces of broken pottery had just come together for him. Cassius noticed the change in demeanor; he was enough of a skilled storyteller to know when to pause, so he did. "Please, continue." Sir Rated directed. Lady Rated nodded, clearly engaged in his tale. He did.

Cassius explained how at age ten, Bjeorn had claimed him, and took him with him, and his life took a massive turn; from the life of a well-to-do fisherman, he was swept up as a page in the service of a great mercenary captain and claimed as a son. As he grew in stature, he was educated and trained as a fighter and a leader. He'd even met King Ellesar once.

He explained that although many of the men of the company travelled to the north on leave, and most eventually retired there, Bjeorn had never traveled north. Cassius was curious of this, but his father would never answer saying only that his heart was here in Dol Amroth. He'd always assumed that his mother was related to the fisherman's family.

Looking at the man and woman in front of him, the lady was very clearly at her edge, and quite ready to cry. Cassius added, "Sir Rated, perhaps you should open the box. I am somewhat curious myself as to what he sent you." Sir Rated looked intently at Cassius. Then he opened the box, and observed a ring. He pulled it out, and showed it to Cassius. Cassius was a little surprised. It was a beautiful jewel, very finely set in gold wire. It was an expensive piece of fine craftsmanship for a fine hand. It brought back a shadow of a memory that he couldn't place.

"Young man, have you ever seen this before?"

"Only once. When I was a child. I believe it belonged to my mother."

"It did indeed. I gave it to her, before she married your father." His wife broke out in a big smile, with a tear coursing down her cheek. She hugged her husband, and then Cassius. The tension in the room lifted immediately.

Lady Rated continued, "Your mother Genevieve was the daughter of my cousin and his wife, who was a commoner. When she was left orphaned, she was raised in our house as my parent's ward. We were like sisters; and she was the best friend one could ever have had. Because she was essentially penniless, and the daughter of a commoner, your grandfather disapproved of the match between her and Bjeorn. Your grandfather even threatened Bjeorn with being disinherited for choosing her. But Bjeorn broke with his father, rather than Genevieve. When they eloped, I lost my best friend and sister. I never thought I would see her again, but now I have. Bless you." The tear running down from one eye made him instinctively reach out and hand her his kerchief. She took it adding again, "Bless You."

Sir Alfred continued the story. "That was nearly 20 years ago. We were engaged then. As the younger son, our father was less concerned with my match, and Lady Rated had a dowry, where Genevieve, your mother, did not. This ring, I am afraid, was her only dowry. And now I realize they never needed it. It hurt us terribly when they left. We wrote to them on more than several occasions, but never once were the letters successfully delivered. Bjorn and Genevieve were never located. The last one was written sometime after our little Genevieve - our last child was born. But your mother would have been long dead then."

Lady Rated took his hand gently and added, "Your youngest cousin would have been eight this year. She died just over two years ago." From her face, she seemed reconciled to that truth, not held by it.

Respecting the prudence and integrity in the young man before him, and the joy in his wife's face, Sir Rated reached a decision. He reached out and shook Cassisus' hand, and then hugged him. "None of your cousins made it past childhood. You are all that is left of the Rated family. Do you know what that means?"

"No sir. I mean Uncle."

"It means that you will inherit this estate when I pass, and you will be responsible for Lady Rated in her old age, and all of the tenants and households here about. Welcome home." He embraced him in a manly, if courtly manner.

It took time for that statement to register. He did not know how to act, so he fell back on the courtesy he'd been trained to use. "Thank you, Uncle. I don't know what to say."

Cassius was now adopted. The servants were quite relieved. Over the next days, Cassius learned all about his family history, and in particular about the role of being an 'Elector' in Dale. Apparently, the Rated family was one of six noble families from the time of King Bard 1st at the restoration of Dale more than half a century before The War.

They could trace their history back generations, going back to the time before the battle of five armies and the restoration of Dale. Their family had even married into the royal family, having married a descendent of Bard the First. But that was long ago. the family had been made destitute by the War of the Ring as their lands had been completely spoiled during the war. But even this was now three generations past. It was clear that Bjeorn, Cassius's father had left Dale and his inheritance for the love of his wife Genevieve. They moved south to Dol Amroth and adopted anonymity. Their anonymity was so well managed, that they remained cut off from those who loved them.

For his part, Sir Alfred became immensely proud of his brother's work as he learned more of the Company of the Northern Bowmen. He'd heard vaguely of such companies, but he had no idea that it was his brother who had created one of the better ones. Even a few of his tenant's children had gone off to The Company, and more than one came back well off. Cassius slowly began to understand how complicated it would have been for Bjeorn to return; in the eyes of many, it was Bjeorn who should inherit, not Alfred. Had any of Alfred's children lived, it would be even more challenging - he would be the rightful inheritor, but with a legal contest. Now, he could bring honor and reconciliation - and joy to a family that seemingly had none. And it was very clear that his Aunt was wildly joyful that her best friend stood before her in himself. She started making him clothes, and over the next few days him many stories of Genevieve's childhood. It was genuinely pleasant to bring so much joy to this woman, simply by being and listening. It was heartwarming in a way he'd never expected when he'd started north on this trip. Her heart was gladdened; It seemed that this childless wife now had an adult child, of whom she was genuinely proud. It still surprised him a bit that this well-off couple would look to hand over their wealth and responsibilities to a distant nephew they hardly knew.

On his uncle's encouragement, Cassius then went to Dale. He was instructed that they would go to the King to have the family charter validated, and that he would be formally recognized in the Royal Court. His uncle and Aunt would accompany him of course, and they'd stay at their house in town. Cassius asked if he could go by himself, and then meet them there. He would rather see Dale on his own, prior to being recognized publicly. Although a little surprised, Sir Rated agreed.

On his way to Dale, he met five men from The Company, home on winter leave. He greeted them warmly. Three were younger lads, his own age or younger. But two were older, and had served in the company for some time, one even longer than he. The older men shared stories of his father, and drank a toast to his memory. Cassius was a bit torn. Soon, he'd be seen as a ranking noble, and such men would not drink with him, and would be obliged to take off their hats if they met in the street. One of the lads, Woolrick, was actually using his money - three years of service saved - to buy a farm from Sir Alfred and marry. He chose did not share the news about his 'adoption.' He did stay the night in the inn with them.

The innkeeper informed Cassius about the news of some 'dissapearing' elves. Sir Eldecar Vandemere - he'd just heard that name mentioned by his Aunt Linota as a friend of his uncle's, was now missing all three of his children. His eldest, Aldarion was one of five men who'd disappeared in the king's service along with two somewhat well-known elves. Then, during the 30-year celebrations his daughter, youngest son and several more elves went after them, and unlike other search parties had not come back. Since then, Elves seemed to be constantly in and out of Dale delivering news and messages. But the news especially interesting to those in the tavern was that the king was offering 500 silver coins for anyone who found the missing men.

Cassius had his formal audience with the aged Brand II, King of Dale crowned in 3067. In the presence of his Uncle and Aunt, the king smiled at the letter, and recognized Cassius as the son of Sir Bjorn Rated, and asked the Seneschal to register his Arms, and recognize him as one of the Electors of Dale upon the death of his uncle. His Uncle asked the king to recognize Bjeorn fully, that in fact Cassius should be elevated in his place as the rightful Elector. Brand, in the presence of Prince Bard, the Royal Seneschal, and the oldest of the electors, Tancred Beanne officially recognized Cassius. He then dubbed him as a knight of Dale, and accepted his fealty and service to the kingdom.

Cassius had no idea how big this event was; it apparently became the first big social event after the 30-year celebrations. The elevation event was followed with a feast at their city house in the northern section of the new town, overlooking the green space outside the old city wall. At the feast, Cassius met five of the six noble electors: Eldecar Vandemere, Tancred Beanne and his eldest son Piers (Piers was about Alfred 's age) and one of his daughters, Cardoc Cualour and his young son Col, Geoffroi Comstance and two of his children, Werner and his older sister Lillia. He guessed that Lillia was almost his age, and apparently quite eligible. Among the noble electors, only Hann Geonne with lands east of Laketown did not attend. But one of the six guild electors did - someone he'd actually met before, and had been a friend of his father's: Cannuld, head of the Dale Mercenary & Armourers' Guild.

While the elderly King Brand himself did not attend the party, his son and heir-apparent, Price Bard did. His wife and two children came as well. Princess Gironne, who was clearly the most beating in the room, and her younger brother Bain. Bard and Piers talked quite a bit; and made a point of listening to his tales of the Company. Cannuld joined this circle, welcome and comfortable in their company. He spent quite a lot of time with Piers and Prince Bard sharing stories, both of whom kept prompting Cassius to give public accounts of Bjeorn and his last battles in the service of King Elessar. They found that Cassius was a gifted speaker, and could both tell a tale and keep his audience's attention.

Bard's wife Fastrada was quiet for most of the party and did her best to keep young men away from Gironne by hovering near her. This neglect allowed Prince Bain ample opportunity to flirt with all of the younger women present and to drink too much. The dancing went well, and Alfred made a point of having Cassius and his beloved Linota lead the first dance. He could tell that they were immensely proud of him, whom two weeks ago had been a perfect stranger. He wondered to himself if his mother would have been like his aunt; he could tell that she still carried the loss of her own children, and her sister-in-law, for over the past few days, and even at this party she had been forced to tell and re-tell these tales. But this day, she was genuinely happy, and what had struck him as a deep hole somewhere within himself was finally starting to fill; a wound he could only feel on the edges of his consciousness was beginning to heal. When he paused to reflect on himself, he found that he was actually happy to be pleasing his new parents. Blood was truly thicker than water.

That next morning, his Aunt and Uncle told him several happy stories of his mother Genevieve and how she'd met Bjeorn, and their long and frustrating courtship. He could tell that his Aunt very much missed her, as apparently it was Genevieve who'd helped Alfred and she find each other. He felt bad that he knew nothing of her, and the ring was his only connection to her. They didn't seem to mind. His Aunt pointed out various features of his face and hands that reminded her of Genevieve, even something about the shape of his smallest finger on his left hand that brought back memories to Linota. She somehow seemed to feel that all the sadness that had been part of their lives since Bjeorn and she had left, was now somehow being put right. She even took time to explain the difficult relationship she had had with her father-in-law, Cassius's grandfather, and how he had died without ever having seen his son again. It was only on his deathbed that he seemed to realize that he was the cause of that break. Alfred described his own regrets - how he'd had a difficult time forgiving his father. He never lived to see their children either. But that was a long passed now. They had a son, and Cassius now had both a mother and father who were excessively proud of him.

The next day, and with the strong encouragement of his Aunt, he went shopping for new clothes and armor. With significant credit available, and the town still full of traders, Cassius, let loose his vanity as a connoisseur of good armor. He looked hard to see if he could get Dwarvish work, something for which Dale was famous for. What he found was that few Dwarves wanted to sell to humans, both because of their size, but also for other reasons. He talked to many armour smiths, but he stopped cold when he noticed one smith, working on a piece carrying the mark of the house of Thalrun. He pointed this out.

"How would you know that, young knight?" Was the reply given.

"He was a friend of my father, Bjorn of the The Company of the Northern Bowmen."

"Is that where you come to have that?" The short smith pointed to the elven longsword he carried.

"Aye. It was my father's. Now it's mine."

The dwarf looked him over, scratched his beard bit and then waved his arm in him. "Come with me, laddie."

They walked into the back of the temporary shop, and there he met Drofo, son of Thalrun, banging away at the anvil and portable forge.

Before the smith could say anything, Cassisus spoke out. "Drofo?"

"Young Cassius? What under the heavens brings you this far north? I thought you a sunshine lad, not one for the ice and snow!"

"Well the sun shines even here. No, Father died two months ago. He sent me here to meet my aunt and uncle."

Leaning his bearded face into Cassius' chest, Drofo gave him a sad look, followed by a manly hug. Drofo looked up at him. "Well that's bad news. Father and we will raise a glass to his memory. I'm sorry for your loss. This aunt and uncle. Who might they be? You're wearing the mark of the Rated family. That's new."

"Yes. Bjeorn was brother to Sir Alfred Rated."

"God help Ye." Drofo smiled. "That's one who is always in the middle of the Kings' business." Bracing the taller man in his arms, he added " We'll never see ye in the sunshine down south now. Trapped here in the north you'll be!"

The smith interjected, "He's a man, come inquiring about armour."

"Well don't be daft, if the nephew of Sir Alfred Rated comes seeking our wares, you don't just show him the door. See to his wants. And bring us some ale!"

Their conversations were both relaxed and informative. For weeks since starting this trip north, he'd been mostly amongst strangers, but now he could relax and listen. With Drofo and his people, he was who he'd always been, and respected for himself and his father, not just for title and wealth. Cassius cheerfully renewed this old acquaintance, and managed to get a different perspective on Dale and her politics in the bargain. It was a perspective that he was glad to hear, especially having Just met many of the players the day before. And he thought it was a great coup to order Dwarvish armour without touching any of the wealth he had brought north. And with quick delivery. It would normally have taken a whole season to get the specialty mail and helm he'd just ordered; but since he was relatively short, the mail could be modified in just a few days. Now if only he could find a way out from under the politics of his new home.

While he genuinely liked his Aunt Linota, he was still a little ill at ease around uncle Albert. He was growing on him, but he wanted to give that relationship time. This idea of adult children was clearly very new to them as well, and he wanted time to let the arrangement settle in on both sides. So, he spent more time exploring the ways and byways of Dale, both around their house in the north side of the new city, and up the hill in the old city. Always an observer, he spent more of his time watching people, and trying to guess their stories. And to stay on the lookout for thieves. He saw a few petty cut-purses plying their trade, and made it a point to bump one as he was about to make a snatch. He laughed when the cutpurse looked up at his fancy clothes and unassuming look. Cassius assumed that his lookouts would tell him the real tale later.

On another afternoon he was out people watching, this time in his new mail and padding, trying to get used to the weight and heat of the new kit. While in the Old City, he saw a diminutive young woman in forester garb with a massive recurve bow walking down the hill from the royal household. She noticed him leaning up against the wall obviously watching her.

To his surprise, she walked right up to him. She asked, "Who are you?" She obviously knew that for a human to have dwarvish armour, they had to have connections; maybe just of noble birth and connected, but also, maybe someone interesting. She struck up a conversation without saying much about herself. They talked about armour. This put him off guard. He was not used to armed women talking about armour and Dwarves intelligently. He wondered what she was trying to sell.

"Oh, I forgot. My name is Mirel. And you are...?"

"I am called Cassius, son of Bjorn. Around here, I am called Sir Cassius Rated."

"Well, Sir-Cassius-Rated-son-of-Bjorn, that is quite a sword you have there. Elvish made, isn't it?Could you walk me out the gate to the green space and show it to me? How did you come to acquire such a blade?" And so they walked north, towards his home, and Miriel heard of Bjeorn and the story of the elvish-made long sword. When they walked out the Old North Gate, she really did turn out to the grass, and expected him to draw his longsword and show it to her. He politely obliged.

"So, my Lady Miriel - of the Greenwood, no?" She nodded, still looking at his sword. She noticed that he brandished it with care and respect; and that he was clearly well-practiced with a blade.

He continued, "Lady Miriel, What brings you to Dale? It is many days journey to the Greenwood, is it not?"

Miriel explained how it was her current task to run messages to Dale. This was her second run, and she'd heard that 'the princesses' - the daughters of Vanesse, had disappeared from Dale during the party. She explained that she was surprised that they apparently took some human girl along with them. Noticing that her audience appeared clueless, she told the story of the missing men for whom King Brand was offering five hundred silver to whomever found them. Then she mentioned that her acquaintance Lona was supposed to be here in town, but wasn't. She was reported to have returned to the Greenwood. But she just came from there, and knew that Lona was not with her father as reported. "I think she went after her brother. It's what I would do."

"Slow down, please, m'lady. Who is Lona? Who are 'the princesses'? "

"Lona is an acquaintance of mine, and probably one of the tallest of the Greenwood that you'll ever meet." She didn't add that she could rival Queen Arwen in her beauty, but she didn't share that with the young knight. "The 'princesses' are my friends, Gothweniel and Calådhiel daughters of Vanesse. They are noble girls who always get what they want. I'll bet Calådhiel talked her into it."

"And Lona - your friend's brother - went missing?"

"No. Calådhiel is my _friend_. Lona is a good acquaintance. Her brother went missing, were you not listening?"

"I'm sorry Lady Miriel, I am also quite new to these parts, and am not accustomed to the news, and the Dale-ish custom of seeming to know, or to want to know everyone else's news."

"Of course. Let me go slowly so you can follow." The peevish look in her eyes was almost too much to bear, but her smile kept him interested. He wasn't sure how he felt being thus toyed with.

"Aaron son of Mark is the wonder-smith; the best in Dale, probably the best in Gondor and even the Greenwood at the moment. He and Lona's brother Adan disappeared on their way to the Greenwood. For reasons unknown, Aldarion Vandemere and Aearion son of Beninion followed them, and also disappeared. But they were foolish enough to leave a quiver behind. Then _my_ _friends_ Calådhiel and Gothweniel followed after their brother Aearion. Now, I am pretty certain that Lona and maybe even Alina went with them..."

"Alina is ... who?"

She looked at him again with a 'matter-of-fact, how-can-you-be-so-dense' look and continued to explain. He couldn't tell if she was still playing with him, or was just that clueless herself to realize that not everyone knows what you know. While he'd heard that elves had a reputation for being blunt and rude, he honestly thought she was not trying to be.

"Alina is Lona's friend; well, actually she helped raise her, but she is Aaron's brother. Lona usually stays with Mark and Jenna. I was going to stay there, but she's not there so I can't."

Trying to follow her train of thought was dizzying. At this point though, she wasn't looking at him. It suddenly dawned on him that the beautiful Elven woman with the big bow was probably very impulsive. He decided to see if he could crack her armour, at least metaphorically. "Lady Miriel, I may be impertinent in asking this, but do you happen to have a lot of close friends?"

Now she was looking right at him, and the knit in her brows spoke volumes. "Well, no actually. Why do you ask?"

"'Just wondering. You've insulted me at least twice in the last few minutes, and I'm not certain that you noticed. You did not appear to be trying."

"I am sorry, Sir Knight... Sir Cassius..." Her pause told him what he was listening for. He had cracked her armour, she was now listening.

"If a messenger from the Greenwood needs a place to stay, I am certain that beautiful accommodations await up the hill at the Royal apartments. Or, if you wish to stay in the new city, Lady Rated would be overjoyed to give hospitality at our home."

She looked at him quizzically, "Thank you. But I don't really want to stay in Dale. I think I'd really like to find my friend Lona."

"Oh. Then you'll be returning to the Greenwood today?"

She jumped past his question. "Why would your wife be overjoyed to meet me? Most human women are insanely jealous of my people."

Again, Cassius found himself a bit dizzy and looking for words. "No my Lady, Lady Rated is my _Aunt_ , and she very much loves having guests. You would be most welcome at our home if you prefer to leave in the morning. The house is not far."

She hesitated, putting the pieces together in her mind. "Well, I could use something to eat."

"Please come with me." And he escorted her the few hundred yards to their home in the new town. It was only a few minutes' walk before the house was in sight across the green. He picked up the conversation, sharing his bits of news about the missing folk, and what he'd heard over the past many days.

For Miriel's part, she was a bit conflicted. With her task done, she really had no reason to stay, and with nothing to report back to the Greenwood, she really couldn't be bothered to return home immediately. She wanted to find Calådhiel, but going after her by herself would be foolhardy given what little she knew. But at home she did not have close friends she could talk into such an adventure, as this young knight had just painfully pointed out. Despite the fact that this he could talk the ears off sow, she saw in him a rather elf-like human. He was truthful, and from an Elector's family. He appeared honorable and certainly courteous, and clearly had some experience behind him. She decided to share a bit of her news.

When she could get a word in, she switched the topic, and explained that there was strange news from the Greenwood. In the far south Wargs had been found, which was exceptionally strange. Wargs had not been heard of since The War, and had they never come even this far south without Goblin masters, and at least some of these reportedly had no such masters. This made little sense, but it was the news she had just given to Prince Bard and King Brand. She commented, mostly for her own ears to hear, that she had nothing to report back home. She then reiterated her desire to go find her friend Lona. At his point, they paused their walking in front of a well-situated and largish house with its own wall and stable.

Once inside, Cassius introduced Lady Miriel of the Greenwood to Lady Linota Rated. His guess about his aunt's reaction was rewarded when Aunt Linota cheerfully made him dress properly, and then had the servants set an afternoon meal. He was a little amazed, as Aunt Linota seemed to keep up with Miriel's dizzying explanations, which included that she was returning to the Greenwood presently. Apparently Linota also saw the itch for adventure in her nephew, and suggested that he ride out with her, at least as far as their family estate, which was mostly on the way to Thurandril's court where Miriel was heading.

After she mentioned riding, Miriel, impulsive as ever, jumped several topics, and asked, "May I meet your horses?" Linota immediately acquiesced and directed her ever-courteous nephew to escort her to the stables. She explained that there were fewer horses there now, as her husband was away.

Once in the stable, Cassius noticed that horses really liked Miriel; that she made the horses feel comfortable, even his big Southern warhorse. While standing in the stable, watching his horse relax and take a comb, he made a decision. With his Aunt's encouragement ringing in his ears, he got the idea that this would be a good excuse to try to find the missing men, or at least her friend Lona. To his mind, riding off with a damsel in distress is always a good thing, even if the damsel in question is well armed and wears decent armour. A bit of adventure before the cold set in would be worth the effort, and even a reward was offered. They might even come out a few hundred sliver to the better, and earn favor in Dale, not just be given it. While she was done greeting each horse, he suggested the idea; Miriel was more than a little willing. Others from the Greenwood have gone looking. Why not her? She and Cassius crafted a plan to go after the missing elves.

Packing took more time than Mirel would have liked, but in the end, they had three very nice and friendly horses, plenty of kit and food for the road. Aunt Linota gave her blessing, if with a little trepidation. She also invited them to meet her at their country estate in a few weeks.

They rode north, then west. They went through Dale's lands, and then across the wilds. Within three days they were on the edge of the Greenwood and heading north. Miriel seemed to know when the horses needed rest, or when they needed to walk, and coaxed many more miles out of them than he'd expected. When they were riding, they spent quite a bit of time not talking, as talking a lot clearly fatigued Miriel. But over these days, they slowly learned a lot about each other, their families, history and experience.

Miriel also did the tracking. Her thought was that if Wargs went south, then Lona would go north. Cassius still thought her to be odd, but this seemed like safe fun. After more than a few days searching along the border to the Greenwood, they found a small trail of what appeared to Cassius to be unusually large dogs; giant dogs. Miriel explained that these were Warg tracks. He looked at them carefully as she pointed out the details. After finding a few more, she estimated its weight and speed. That was a bit frightening.

At this, the search became quite serious. This trail was not fresh, but was clearly aged weeks, similar to their information about the disappearance of the men and elves. They also found evidence of horses as well. She showed him the details, and her reasoning. They both agreed that this had a high probability of being interesting, so they decided that they would follow it for a day or two and see what they found. Cassisus was impressed with her skill. He'd met good trackers before, at least as good as this diminutive woman, but she had a humble, matter-of-fact approach that was incredibly compelling. It seemed like an intuition of the trail.

Following these older marks was harder than they thought it would be. After a day, they lost their marks completely, but they still had another day yet on their agreement. So they still headed north. The risk paid off. Hours later, they didn't find the trail, but rather what looked like a bedding-down site, equally aged. The number of individuals they estimated conservatively to be over 15. The real win was not finding the trail again, but rather what turned up under a leaf - a scrap of cloth. It looked to be similar to what she'd seen sold in Dale, and Cassius thought of as a fragment of upperclass cloth. It was a key breakthrough; They followed, this time with a will, knowing that they'd found a real trail. They also agreed that they would not be on his Aunt's timetable. If they pursued this trail, they would have to pursue it until it proved false, too dangerous to continue, or they found out what happened to the owner of this cloth.

Fifteen leagues further north, they found another sleeping spot and they spent time thoroughly searching the site. This time they could identify that there had been at least two humans; again the marks were undisturbed and many weeks old. They continued north. Watching her in action, Cassius really thought Miriel was a top tracker. Periodically they had found traces of a couple people, spaced at what appears to be a forced march - maybe fifteen or sixteen leagues apart. Cassius was slowly learning.

The tracks kept going north, leading up into the mountains. But they were finally in much better territory for horses. Miriel tells Cassius where she thinks the wargs are. They are only a few days behind main group. They hear off in the distance weird snarling sounds. They saw a large, human-like incredibly ugly creature with blue/grey tint to its skin. Miriel commented quietly with a bit of surprise, "a troll?" In the deepening evening shadows they saw a group of a dozen or so adult wargs. The wargs are playing with the troll, which is a dangerous game. The troll injured one, but the swirling pack of Wargs tore at him, trying to get at his throat.

They considered their actions; they looked at each other, thinking to put safety first. But Miriel couldn't take the sounds of pain from the Troll. Her loathing for the wargs made her feel sorry for it, whom she also loathed. "We can't let the wargs win. Can we kill a few and leave?" Cassius quickly sized up the ground, found some cover with a clear shot, while Miriel tied the horses so they could be quickly mounted.

All this time, there were horrible snarls, interspersed with cries of pain, and the occasional dog-like whine. At about 25 yards distance, Miriel and Cassius carefully aimed and fired, but they mostly missed the swirling targets. The first warg they hit took two arrows, one from each. But losing another of their pack did not slow them down, and the Wargs kept chomping at the troll, tearing at it viciously. For Miriel it was hard to listen to, and she fired as fast as she could shoot accurately. Continuing trying to pick targets, Cassius hit another warg, stalling it long enough to get squashed by the troll. Miriel hit one as well, then missed. The warg dropped out of the fight while the rest continued to take down the troll.

Cassius pegs another one, and it stalled, giving the Troll time to crush it. The troll killed another one, but had taken some serious gashes, and spent most of its time protecting its throat. Finally noting that their prey had deadly help, the remaining wargs expressed good sense and ran off, including their wounded. With the threat gone, the troll proceeded to pick up the warg with two arrows in it. Looking carefully at the dead Warg, he plucked out the deeply-set arrows, dropping them to the ground. Then he sniffed around, finally spotting Miriel and Cassius behind cover.

He looked over at them intently and after a long pause said "Thanks." Clearly bleeding, and with multiple and nasty gashes, he appeared quite past being hostile. Cassius, keeping his distance, asked what the wargs were doing. The troll replied, "Tried to eat me." When this received no response, he added "too many wargs" and something about them coming down from "the smokey mountain with three peaks." He then grabbed a dead warg in each hand and walked off. Cassius thought to himself that he had grown up thinking Wargs and Trolls were all a part of legend, not reality. The reality was rather frightening.

Continuing on the old trail, Cassius and Miriel found another piece of cloth, again at about the same fifteen league separation as with the other ones. Clearly Wargs escorted took at least two someones up here, probably more on horses. One of the someones had the good sense to leave a trail. They entered deeper into the mountains. Miriel was intrigued. They don't find anything new after looking around, although she was able to harvest a deer to supplement their food supplies.

Miriel noticed a track upon the ground and a magical sense that she couldn't shake. The trail was made by something that was being dragged. She was frightened by it. This trail was fresh; maybe a day old or less. The trail was heading more north than they wanted to go. They followed it a short distance, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. At the top of the next ridge they saw a similar mark and it was again a really hard spot to see. Continuing, they finally spotted a mountain with triple peaks. Miriel noticed smoke rising from the southern-most peak. The next day they find another of the strange drag marks. Curiously they only found these on top of the ridges they crossed. Miriel picked up and saved some of the dust that made her so nervous. She planned to share this with some of the elders when she got the chance.

They continued north. Up here it was a little more difficult to find food for the horses, and they had to rely more on the oats in the feed bags. They ended the day perhaps a dozen leagues almost due west of a mount with three peaks, where the two thought the Wargs had taken their prisoners. The wind was from the west, and it still carried a hint of smoke. Apparently the troll spoke true; perhaps they were now in sight of their goal. But after having watched wargs in action, they also realized they were in no real position to interfere. They spent the night without a fire, and mostly in silence. The prospects that came to mind were not pleasant. The plan was to turn west, and scout the mountain as best they could without calling attention to themselves. To describe their mood as apprehensive would be mild.

Cassius asked her, "Miriel, are you certain you want to get that close to the Wargs and their dens? They can outrun us on horseback, especially in the woods."

For a change, she looked at him directly, "Cassius, I am really not certain. As we've travelled north, there seems to be more and more dark things. These mountains seem black to me, not grey. "

"Do you wish to return south, and then we come back with help?" He echoed what he thought the prudent course of action would be.

"Yes; but first I would dearly like to get a better look at that mountain. That is a man-made fire. It smells of wood and stone. And someone left us that trail to find them. I would at least like to know if they are there. We have found no bodies, even from among the horses. That is very un-Warg-like."

"Wood... and stone? What can you mean?"

"Like someone is melting rocks up there. _Tama_... Smelting is the word I think."

"That is ... unexpected. Very un-Warg-like as you just said." His curiosity went up yet another notch. Still, if a big hunting pack like the one that went after the Troll caught them, their likelihood of returning south would be slim. But, he wanted to know more; clearly she did as well, and she was clearly skilled enough to get a good look. He decided to try. "Very well. We can take our time, and work our way closer to the mountain. We'll have to pick our path to stay out of sight of the peaks. Then we can observe, and return to the Greenwood for aide."

As usual, they split the night watch. They just hoped that nothing else unexpected would come their way.


	9. Chapter 9: A Hard Road to Follow

Chapter 9: A Hard Road to Follow

The early fall nights were cooler in the highlands that separated the mountains. That night, the five women and three men started their night riding across open ground, setting up camp and taking their rest when they reached the opposite tree line. The next morning, they looked south, and from a distance, they could see carts winding up toward the southern most of the three peaks. From the distance, they could also see a group of wargs heading in the same direction, paralleling the people on the trail. While they spent time observing, they watched a mid-sized group of wargs break off, and head north, toward their own position.

This potential threat prompted them to break camp and start moving. The twins explained that their pack's bedding area was in the forest area, further south, but on the other side of the mountain. Their pack had a calling place southeast of the peak, and once there they could get news. The mounted party spent the next day working their way southeast though the trees downhill, heading towards where they could cross the ridges, and reach where the twins' home had been.

Cassius and Miriel had spent the previous day working their way west toward the southernmost of the twin peaks. After another cool night with cold food, they continued west. They were careful to only cross open ground around trees and brush so that their movements would remain hidden. Unfortunately, as they were getting ready to leave yet another copse of trees, Miriel had an unmistakable sense of danger, and she thought she saw something moving.

"Cassius, over there." She called quietly to her companion, subtly motioning towards the movement she had seen. They found quickly a place to hide the horses, and hid for the better part of an hour. Cassius carefully reloaded his crossbow before they moved on. Only after a good long time checking their surroundings. did they mount and try to venture to the next copse of trees.

The little wargs lead their wolverines and their three escorts through odd trails; at many points, they had to proceed single-file, which facilitated cleaning the trail behind them. By afternoon they had crossed the ridge, and stopped for a break. They had descended a bit, and had actually wound southeast of the northernmost of the three peaks. After a bit of discussion about the way the trees ran, they decided that there should be a large clearing due south of them, but somewhat upslope of where they were. With luck, by evening they should break out of the woods with only a few miles of open ground north of the second peak. From there they should be able to see the wargs if they were not somehow in the woods behind them. No one liked being hunted by wargs in the woods where the trees obscured the visibility and the range of their bows.

The twins were not very happy about the change. When they reached the edge of the wood line, they did not have to wait long before they spotted motion: a group of wargs heading south and east downslope. Lona was quieting the horses. At that point, Calådhiel saw a small movement behind them. Eric spotted several wargs heading towards their position along the tree line. The continued at a brisk pace heading south east, keeping close to the edge of the trees that they could tell where the tree line remained. After about an hour of this quick movement, the trees stopped, and they were forced to break into more open and level space. Here they clearly spotted two scouting parties. They picked a path that put a corpse of trees between them and the wargs. From their position inside the wood line, they watched the scouting pairs and hunting group that they'd spotted earlier ahead of them, busy nosing about a copse of trees about 75 yards distant.

The eight of them with their two pack horses froze. They readied their bows and watched carefully. Not far from where the wargs were nosing, Alina spotted something moving, "There is a person there - with horses. Do you see him?"

They saw three horses emerge quietly, but the wargs saw them as well. The lead horse carried an armored knight with a crossbow; just behind him was a small rider wielding a distinctively Elvish bow. They were moving out in the open, away from the hunting party at a good clip, closely followed by two clearly frightened pack horses. Two wargs dropped as they fired. Alina yelled out to them, "Over here! Up here!" It was strange to hear her full voice, after so many days of quiet. She waved, but the rest of the party had their bows drawn and arched up to reach their distant targets.

To his surprise, Cassius heard a woman's voice calling him from a distance: clear and almost angelic. He turned his head to see wargs still gaining on them, and nudged his horse to give his passenger a better shot. As soon as she loosed the shaft, he urged his horse for haste, turning again to give as much distance for his pursuers. Slinging the crossbow, he headed for the voice. Miriel continued to fire as she could.

Ancalime sat her horse perfectly still, and listened to Calådhiel's instructions about range and windage. Meldiron loosed a shaft, immediately followed by Eric and the four women. Only Nergel held his fire. The rest nocked another shaft and arched their bows and let fly another flight of seven. While the first flight missed, the second did not as the heavy shafts dropped in among the group of wargs closing on the riders' left. Nergel also fired, and stopped one of the wargs on their right.

The seven archers did not wait; as soon as the second flight was loosed, they reloaded and aimed again, Meldiron and Calådhiel coaching those near them. They let fly again and again, with a more shafts connecting as their targets drew closer. They dropped the first wargs just before they reached the rearmost packhorse. The wargs that were incredibly surprised and when they watched the second group of leading hunters mysteriously drop just as they reached their fleeing prey. Now leaderless, they turned and fled. They left eight dead or dying on the field, and several wounded limping away. Even as the range increased, three more dropped, either from injuries or plunging shafts before they were out of range of the plunging death.

Both mounted groups were now less than forty yards apart. The twins, having watched their wolverines' claws do their work, growled something to Gothweniel. Now short of targets, she repeated it in Westron: "The Scars are going to regroup."

Watching the riders close on their position, Alina called out again, "Here, in the trees."

Hearing the Angel Voice again, Miriel pointed out to Cassius the mounted archers in the wood line where the woman's voice had come from. From their position he could see two large horses with knights, and two mounted elves. He headed straight for them. As they closed, Cassius sheathed his sword. Miriel took to being small, hiding behind Cassius leaving only her bow sticking out.

As the three horses finally reached the woods, Nergal wondered who was riding behind the knight. With a sudden flash of recognition Nergel called out, "Cassius! What under heaven brings you..." Even as he spoke, they watched the diminutive forester behind him gracefully swing herself out of the saddle and run straight for Calådhiel.

Calådhiel and Lona slid off their horses to hug Miriel. Miriel, being Miriel started talking about the horses, while Lona and Calådhiel tried to pull from her how she got those particular horses. Or more particularly why they were here in the mountains being stalked by wargs. Meldiron recognized Miriel, but immediately suggested that they move to a different spot, as the wargs would soon return, perhaps with reinforcements. Everyone quickly mounted, only this time Miriel mounted behind Calådhiel. After spending time hurriedly retrieving arrows, they moved back into the woods, and retraced their steps back upslope to the north west.

Eric and Nergel rode along with Cassius, asking questions, especially about why he was in the north, and how he ever wound up in these northern wilds. He shared that it started as a bit of a whim, something with his Aunt's encouragement, but then they found the trail and the cloth bits, and it became a hunt in earnest. And that got them here, and almost served as warg food.

Eric could not restrain himself, quietly replying, "What Aunt is this? I thought you told me you had no family? And did Captain Bjorn recover? What cloth did you find?" It was all he could do to restrain himself from stopping on the trail to hear the news and wring detailed answers out of him. But as it was, they were obliged to keep their voices down, and only talk when they rode in tandem. It made for a long, slow retelling of the past few weeks. Eric maintained the advantage, doing most of the questioning and shifting the conversation to make Cassius do most of the answering.

Meldiron finally called a halt after they'd crossed open ground with rock and tree outcroppings that would give them long visibility and some ability to move if their foes came after them. Eric and Meldiron started talking about wargs, while Cassius and Nergel dismounted and started unsaddling the horses to give them a rest. It was at this place that the rest of the group behind them caught up, and Cassius got a closer look at Calådhiel and Meldiron. "Where did you meet such company?" Cassius asked his old acquaintances. Nergel let Eric answer vaguely, "At the party in Dale." As the women caught up to them.

As they rode by, Miriel gave Calådhiel a hug, pointed to her and called out to him, "Cassius, this is Calådhiel. I can't believe we found her!" As they rode past to attend to her horse, Calådhiel just turned and smiled at him, and kept going. Cassius for his part just stood there with his mouth partly open, unconsciously following her with his eyes as the pair rode past. Nergel just bumped him roughly, and smiled at him. "They take some getting used to. You'll get used to it." The two ladies ignore him for the moment, dismounting, and working to get the sweating horse free of its saddle.

Cassius shook his head quickly to get the stunning image out of his mind, and back to the reality in front of him. "They?"

Before he could process the thought, another female voice spoke up in a strange, guttural language. It was Gothweniel, calling the twins back to her. As the two trotted into view, Cassius's horse, now shed of its saddle, reared back as the two seemingly threatening creatures drew near. He had no time to process the connection, or see where the voice came from. The moment he had his horse under control, he pulled up his crossbow and aimed it at the wargs trotting through their rest camp. The twins ignored him, not realizing there was a threat, as they were focused on finding Gothweniel.

"Hold, there, Cassius." Nergel spoke, who gently touched his arm. "They're friends."

Cassius looked at him as if he were insane, and then looked back at the two smaller wargs. They walked over and laid down at Gothweniel's feet. Cassius looked up at Gothweniel, who looked stunning in the indirect light filtering through the trees, even more so with the two incredibly ugly beasts at her feet.

He was completely taken aback. He just lowered his crossbow and started muttering "My Lady... Ah... My Lady... Ah..." While Gothweniel just smiled and stood scratching one of the twins. The other ladies started laughing gently. It was too funny to watch such a warrior so quickly reduced to babbling. Now Cassius looked back to where Calådhiel and Miriel held their hands in front of their mouths as they laughed.

"They... There's more?" he said. In every direction he looked, a beautiful woman nodded at him.

The ladies giggled more. Miriel, being Miriel, could not help speaking her mind and told Calådhiel, "See, I told you he was fun." And giggled some more. For Cassius's sake, she at least had the courtesy to say it in Sindarin. Unknown to her was that Eric and Ancalime both understood what she said.

He turned and saw Calådhiel, and then looked back at Gothweniel. "Are you... related?" Gothweniel answered, "Sisters, Sir knight." He turned as he heard more female laughter from behind him. He saw a tall Lona, and even taller Alina. He then started turning his head back and forth between Lona and Gothweniel.

Pointing to Lona, he asked Gothweniel the same question. "My Lady, Are you two... related?"

Gothweniel shook her head in disagreement, and smiling at him answered, "Just good friends, Sir knight." Now he looked very much confused, because he was.

His bewilderment only grew deeper when who he thought was a tall boy in armor was smiling and shaking 'his' head at him as well. He understood women, but a page or squire? The 'boy' showed a very womanly shape underneath the hauberk and padding 'he' was wearing. When 'he' smiled, 'he' was not just pretty, but strikingly beautiful. Even in chainmail brushing down a horse. Confused, Cassius just stood speechless.

Miriel, still hugging Calådhiel, let go and walked up to Cassius. "Cassius, _this_ is my friend Calådhiel. _That_ is her sister Gothweniel. They are kin to the missing Aearion. Behind you is Lona, kin to Adan, and with her I am pretty certain is her friend Alina, kin to Aaron, the missing silversmith. Ladies, this is Cassius. He's not from Dale, but I found him there."

They then proceeded to introduce themselves. Miriel clearly recognized all of the Elven folk, but she was also very surprised that Alina had come along, or could handle horses or carry a blade. That was new. Calådhiel then introduced Ancalime, Nergel and Eric to Miriel as well. Ancalime was completely new to her, but she recognized her name as sister to the missing Aldarion. For his part, Cassius felt even more ridiculous that he had mistaken Ancalime for a boy. A silence followed.

Miriel blurted out, "Cassius, it is your turn."

Working past his long bout of being tongue-tied, Cassius finally introduced himself as "Sir Cassius Rated." While Ancalime recognized his family name, she knew the family as a close friend of her father's, a name belonging to another of the Noble Electors. But hearing that name attached to someone near her own age made no sense. The Sir Rated she knew had no surviving children. She even remembered how sad it was, attending the burial of their last child, a little girl who'd passed several years ago. And the name of any 'Sir Cassius' was not in her knowledge of the Rated family.

She spoke up, "Sir Cassius, how is it that that you carry the family crest of Sir Alfred Rated? I am very familiar with his family, but unfortunately we never had the pleasure of meeting." Cassius had his father's good sense, and realized that she was not one to be trifled with. His memory was that her Father Eldecar had left him with the same impression.

Cassius started to answer, but Miriel spoke first. "His Father was Sir Alfred's older brother. But he passed, and so Cassius here was recognized as his heir and as the rightful Rated and Elector in Dale. The story about his mother and father is really romantic."

At this point, Nergel spoke up. "Cassius, your father never used the name 'Rated'. This doesn't make sense."

Miriel continued for him. "Well of course not, Master Nergel. His father disowned his family to marry Cassius' mother. Isn't that the greatest? And then she died in his arms when Cassius here was born. And his father never married, or even looked at another woman. And her name was the last thing he spoke. Isn't that beautiful?"

Finally, Cassius was able to get a word in. "No Nergel, it wasn't quite like that. But it is true that Father never remarried, and yes, my mother's name were the last words that the Captain spoke." His embarrassment was easing a bit.

"I'm sorry; I guess I assumed he'd made it through again. I take it was his death that made you come north?"

Cassius nodded. "Yes." Then, with his wits finally about him and in some semblance of order, he finally addressed Ancalime's question. "You must be the adventurous daughter of Sir Eldecar?" When she nodded, he continued before the ever-impulsive Lady Miriel could steal his thunder. "Yes, but as you can see, our relationship with Sir Albert and Lady Linota was not one I was ever aware of until well after my father's death. I'm still rather new to the family." His focus went back to Gothweniel. "They look like wargs, my Lady."

"Yes, they are. And they are blood enemies of the ones that attacked you. They led us here, to the three peaks. We were going to scout the mountain from the east, but that led us to you. But the Scars we met there have now blocked that route. What is it, Sir Knight, that led you here?" Cassius quickly explained about the cloth they found, and the incident with the Troll.

Miriel interrupted, "I made him help the Troll. I'm sorry. I couldn't stand watching that monster get shredded alive."

Cassius replied tactfully, "Yes, and it was the Troll who told us that this mountain with three peaks was the center of the warg's activity. If wargs took the men, as we surmise, and the cloth trail and horses went this way, it made sense to go see for ourselves. Only we really had no idea there were this many of them hereabouts. I have to thank you for the rescue. I'm not sure we would have made it away unscathed without your timely aid."

With Miriel stroking the horse next to her, Calådhiel replied first: "You are very welcome. But with this many organized. Wargs about, I am afraid you must remain with us."

"Of course, my Lady. I am at your service."

Alina felt badly for Cassius; he seemed like such a good man to had gone off on this quest with Calådhiel's friend. He chose to stay out on the search for weeks once they stumbled upon real evidence. But right now he looked so flustered that she just wanted to ease his pain. She spoke next, "Would you like some food?" Cassius then joined his southern friends as they ate, while Miriel shared the bits of cloth they'd found with Alina. They resembled the lining of her cloak, and it immediately brought renewed hope that her brother was alive, or had been. She thanked Miriel for their perseverance and for finding them, and for the hardship and danger they'd endured getting here.

Miriel, not comfortable being the center of attention, smiled and then went back to working with the horses. She enjoyed the time resting introducing herself to each of them. She also made a point of introducing Calådhiel to the three horses from the Rated stables.

Ancalime and Gothweniel took the twins over to Meldiron and Eric who were on watch. Once there, Meldiron asked them how their new guests were doing. "A bit embarrassed, I'm afraid. Miriel seems very happy, and relieved. If she realized how much danger they had been in, she hasn't shown it."

"She is young still."

Eric spoke up. "It's been an hour. We should move, shouldn't we?"

"Yes." Meldiron paused to bend down, and speak to the two wargs. He took time to touch the weaker one, still recovering from the battle east of the bridge town. "They agree. Tracking pairs will be combing this side of the mountain soon, if not already."

Gothweniel spoke with the wargs further. "They say if we are spotted, this could bring half the pack down on us. There are already many dead to our name."

Eric interjected, "It is inevitable that we will be spotted. We should have a plan."

Gothweniel added, "The twins say if they spot any scouts, they will delay them for the Wolverines' claws." He gave Eric an odd look, "But who are 'their wolverines?'"

With his memory pleasantly piqued, Meldiron engaged the young man in a bit of sarcasm. Laughing at him quietly he added, "Well, Sir Eric, I can't imagine to whom our guides might be referring."

Smiling, Eric looked at the two wargs looking up at him intelligently, "My Lord Meldiron, I can hardly imagine." What he couldn't imagine was how the two wargs had picked up on his comments a few weeks back. He looked at the two wargs with more respect, realizing that they understood more of what was said around them than he had thought.

Gothweniel and Ancalime, watching this exchange, both looked at the two men askance. Ancalime said she'd go back to the horses, and started getting the horses ready. She left, while Gothweniel gave the two men one of those, 'I-know-you're-making-fun-of-me' looks. She stayed with them as the wargs left to do their own reconnaissance.

With the horses saddled, they continued heading west. This took them up towards the gap behind the second peak. As per their usual procedures, they would periodically pause to walk the horses, and to switch out which of the elves would help mask their trail. With more horses, this was now more difficult. At one of these breaks, the twins followed Gothweniel as she quietly walked deeper into the woods to listen to the small animals. Off to her right, she had a very clear sense that they were being watched. With an unspoken word, the twins broke into a silent run in the direction she was facing. Seeing the little wargs run off, the party immediately mounted with Meldiron, Cassius and Eric in the lead.

Meldiron paused his horse long enough to take a clear shot. Cassius and Eric both broke into a full gallop to close the distance. Their targets appeared to be two adult wargs fleeing. The twins finally caught up with their adversaries, and engaged in a snarling, twisting brawl. As Gothweniel and Meldiron caught up to them, one of the adults broke away, only to catch one of their arrows as it fled. Ancalime followed, and Eric quickly fell in behind her.

Meldiron approached the twins as they were playing tag-and-bite with the remaining warg. Meldiron fired a second shaft and hit their prey. The twins immediately took advantage of. Riding into the fray, Meldiron stabbed the big beast as he rode by, ending the struggle. After pausing a moment to let the two catch their breath, he directed them to search the ridges for more unwanted scouts.

While this skirmish played itself out, Ancalime reached the wounded warg ahead of Eric. Her target broke hard to the right. She followed, but it got its timing well, and before she could it in sword range, the warg turned the other way. Eric, following from behind, was able to turn his horse and intercept it, wounding it badly before Cassius and Ancalime caught it. Their two successive blows, delivered from horseback left the big warg, dying on the field.

Ancalime returned to the spot, and looking at the wreck that moments ago was the beast, she told Eric, "Look Eric, it is one of the Scars. Do you suppose the other one is a Scar as well?"

Eric answered, "Yes, probably. I'll go check."

As he wheeled his horse to return to the site of the warg-on-warg tangle, Cassius caught up to him and asked, "Eric, what do you mean by 'a scar?'"

"Oh, that is our nickname for the G'Hochx pack. They mark themselves with a scar on their left back legs. Our wargs are from the H'Chyal'ch pack. They are enemies."

"They have names? ... I see. But our warg 'friends' are also smaller. And the one looks pretty weak."

Eric was a little surprised at the quick judgment. "They're not fully grown yet. And that one nearly died after it took on at least six adults several weeks back. Ancalime charged in with a spear and rescued them. They were a big group, and she almost became their prey. But they found out the hard way that she's rather handy with a sword, even after they took down her horse."

"What?" Cassius replied, but Eric just kept riding. Cassius looked back and gave Ancalime a long look. She was behind him, praising her horse, and thought it rather feminine; Eric's comment left him with a different impression. This company would definitely take some getting used to.

Alina, Lona, Gothweniel and Miriel caught up to them with the pack horses. The twins returned, indicating that they spotted none of the G'Hochx or their allies. They decided that it would be best to keep moving west, so they continued west and uphill, into the wind where it would be harder for the G'Hochx to smell. They were on their way back down slope when darkness fell. Being west of the mountain ridge gave them a few more minutes of daylight, and a downhill ride to the southwest was less work.

To Cassius's surprise, they kept riding into the twilight, and stopped when there was just enough light to set up camp. Miriel helped with horses, and Cassius unloaded, but everyone else already knew what to do. They didn't bother with almost any of the kit that Cassius and Miriel had used. A watch rotation was quickly set, and the animals picketed. Gothweniel and Miriel made certain that the new horses knew the twins and vice-versa. With a quick meal organized by Alina, and then a few hugs among the ladies, they all turned in. The ladies to their tent, and the men to theirs. At least one of the elves was on watch at all times.

Without questioning, he laid down on his bed roll that had been spread for him in the men's tent. Before he could strike up a conversation, Nergel and Eric had both wished him a 'good night' and were fast asleep, still partly armored. He realized he had the second watch, and would best do the same. As her relaxed, it sank into his consciousness how very thankful he was that the day had not turned worse. Oddly, among these friends and beautiful strangers, he felt more secure than he had in weeks. And more tired. As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't but think of how hard the road had been that had brought him here, with these friends and strangers. He could not shake the thought of how completely unexpected this day had been.


	10. Chapter 10: Switching Places

Chapter 10: Switching Places

Their night watches came and went without incident. Cassius took his watch from Nergel, who showed him what to look out for, and especially what to listen for. He particularly noted that night birds in the mountains always meant danger. And that there were unlikely to be real birds calling anywhere near them. When alone, Cassius again thought through everything that had happened; the morning flight, then their rescue. Then his thoroughly embarrassing introduction to the ladies. Then the pursuit and killing of the two wargs they'd spotted. 'A scouting pair' Eric had called them. He stayed awake, and heard strange coarse wolves calling to the south. He noticed that their 'twins' walked around some, but to his surprise, they appeared more interested in guarding than answering the call.

In the morning, they let him sleep in, and were pulling his tent down around him as he awoke. He smelled cooked food, which was a very welcome treat, including the quite attractive and exceptionally tall young woman who fed him. What little she said carried the Dale accent. He gathered that she was the 'Alina' that Miriel had told him about. Then, while saddling, he noted that his horse had been groomed, probably thanks to Miriel. They mounted and continued at a quick but not excessive pace south and west. Their path was not straight, but rather aimed for spaces where it would be easier to stay out of sight. Eventually they crossed a ridge running basically north/south, and stayed on the west side, using the ridge as cover from the three-peaked mountain now directly to their east.

While riding south, Ancalime noticed something strange in the ground. Miriel saw what she was pointing to, and immediately stopped. She pulled Meldiron and Calådhiel over to show them Ancalime's find. As she pointed it out, she added, "Cassius and I have seen this before on the other side of the mountain. Is that what I think it is?"

Looking her friend in the eye with a smile, Calådhiel unhesitatingly answered her. "Well, that depends on what you were thinking, doesn't it?"

"One of the marks is from a flying worm, isn't it?" She answered.

Cassius, processing what she just said, answered, "Is that from a dragon?"

Meldiron, noting that everyone was watching them answered, "Unlikely. And no, we are not going to go riding about to go hunt down any such beast." He then whispered something in Sindarin to Miriel. They all mounted again and kept moving.

As evening approached, they wound up in a position to see the western and southern approaches to the three peaks. They moved again, and from the second vantage point, they could see what looked like a small road winding up towards where the smoke emanated from the southernmost peak.

They stopped and watched, while they found some forage for the horses and cover for the night. What they could observe was humans, with carts moving toward the mountain. On a closer watch, they again observed wargs watching the groups of men from a distance. The men, well mostly men, were pulling carts toward the southern peak, where the thin plume of smoke came from. The carts were not very full, yet they appeared heavy. With help from the twins they found a large birthing cave. They went in, set their camp, picketed the horses and set a watch outside.

Calådhiel agreed to take Miriel and go down at night, and see if she could find out what they were transporting. While they were resting for the night in sight of their apparent goal, she stole in among them, and discovered that aside from camp gear, the carts had rocks in them. She took one of their rocks and silently retreated.

The next morning was cold. Clearly Fall was catching up with them. Eric was huddling with the horses for warmth. Even sheltered by the cave, everyone among the humans was a little cold except for Cassius. They took time to examine Calådhiel's find. On examination, the rock appeared to be a fairly rich lead ore.

Emerging from the cave, they observed trail at a distance. At the front of the long line follow the trail wound its way up the mountain and then disappeared over a small ridge. Unfortunately, they could only approach the trail on foot. To get much closer with the horses they would need the wind to change. This time, Meldiron, Calådhiel, Ancalime and Alina went to observe cart people at a closer range. They went on foot, moving cautiously, Meldiron pointed out a pair of wargs that appeared to stop look sniff, as if they were guarding the line of carts. They wargs didn't spot the small group, it took some time, but they finally got close to the trail, behind cover. Calådhiel spotted a man walking over to the rocks, relieve himself, and return.

He disappeared over a ridge and they followed him to see where the track went. He grabbed a cart and started walking ahead to catch up with his group. They overheard a short conversation between this man and the man at the end of the line. They thought it might be a northern trade tongue. Ancalime could understand, as could Alina, but it was very difficult for the elves. They also knew that they couldn't get any closer without being spotted.

Quietly watching the people at the end of the line, they realized that the age range was mixed, and there were women among them. Many, at least half of the ones they could see, were not armed beyond a knife. There were one or occasionally two people per cart, but mostly one. Meldiron spotted another pair of wargs, and they had to let the line move on.

They sat and waited. wargs were still there, but then they noticed that more people came, another group. Alina, laying nearby, waited for them to pass, and when it seemed safe, whispered what she'd heard them say. "This is the last run of the season," and "It is unusually cold" and "Why are there so many wargs around?"

They continued watching, although now at a distance. When the group stopped to take a break, they noticed that two young women and a man did not take a break, so they thought that at least these three might be slaves. With those three pushing heavy carts, this group headed off.

Again, waiting for a break between the warg observers, Calådhiel headed to a ridge and observed yet another group coming. She returned, warned the rest and went back to spot again. From her vantage point, she saw two groups coming and a pair of wargs observing them. This was clearly a bigger group from the last. At least six people in this group seemed to be slaves or servants. They paused where there was water near the trail, and overheard the same sort of grumbling. One of the boy slaves/servants they observed had an accent that was more similar to the woodcutter's they'd met back at the bridge.

After they'd passed, they whispered among themselves to see what they might do to be able to get to the mountain. With this many people, they couldn't use a bold attack. So they started considering other options. They started with their observations. These mountain folk appeared to have thralls, a servant class. They thought that perhaps if Alina or Ancalime could impersonate one of these foreigners for a few hours, they might be able to learn everything they needed. It would be a big risk, but perhaps worth it. There were just too many wargs watching the trail to be able to get close to the mountain. Hiding in plain sight seemed a reasonable alternative.

This second group was followed by a somewhat larger group. Calådhiel observed that this group also had six servants. One of these servants was a man very close to Ancalime's height and build: 5'10, light framed, yellow hair worn long. Calådhiel came back and shared the idea of putting Ancalime in this fellow's shoes at a point when the group paused by the stream for a rest. The idea was for her to stay a night or at worst two in disguise and then have Meldiron watch her from a distance, and help her to escape.

The four contemplated what this meant; kidnapping the thrall; They thought that this would probably better for him. However, it would be a serious risk for Ancalime, but the prospect of getting close enough to find out if the owners of the cloth crumbs might still be alive was tantalizing. Meldiron watched the three young women earnestly study each other, realizing the risks they were committing their friend to take. They nodded to each other. Ancalime looked up at Meldiron, "Lord Meldiron, please call me out if it looks too dangerous." If I get close enough today, then tonight; otherwise tomorrow night?"

He nodded in agreement. "Let us go help you change places with the young thrall we spotted."

The young man, heard a bird call from behind him. He walked down toward the brush to see if he could spot the creature. Now away from the group, heard a quiet, subtle song from Calådhiel drawing him toward her. He kept walking towards the hidden Calådhiel. Meldiron slammed into him with a bow and Calådhiel knocked him out. Ancalime quickly dressed in his clothes, and returned in his place. Meldiron and Calådhiel gagged the boy, and carried him deeper into cover. They took his clothes, and dressed Ancalime in his clothes. She kept her dagger hidden.

Ancalime joined the group of thralls and started trudging off. Once the humans had gone up the trail, and their warg watchers had moved elsewhere, the now unconscious boy she'd replaced was carried off deeper into the woods. They waited with him, keeping watch for more wargs or people. After a bit the boy woke up, and they removed his gag. Calådhiel talked to him gently, but it was not clear he could understand her Westron. Then he saw Alina and started blabbering. Holding his blankets about him, and they motioned him to silence. He just stared at the three of them in a fright. Seeing that they were secure, Meldiron went to shadow Ancalime, and stay among the trees out of earshot. Calådhiel and Alina returned to the others at the cave with the frightened and mostly naked boy wrapped up in blankets.

As Ancalime was going along, one of the other thralls started talking to her. She answered vaguely, and listened to the fellow as they walked along for more than two hours. They were going up the mountain and she could see several groups of people winding their way up the path in front of them. It was hard work hauling her cart of lead ore. While listening to the fellow carry on, she figured out that the boy's name was Timothy, as well as the names of several other thralls and the name of their Chieftain, Carritok.

One of the guards kicked her, saying s/he was too slow. She replied that he would work faster, but he slapped her across the face for calling him sir. On being struck, her face flushed with anger, and she was tempted to pulled her knife on the fellow. She quickly stopped herself, knowing the key to finding her brother was likely at the top of this trail. So she put on a servant's stoic, downcast look and trudged on. A bit faster.

As their march up the mountain continued, the social structure of the group played itself out. There were armed men, mostly with their wives. They appeared to be richer, or more privileged than the others. There was a second class of people, mostly men, who all appeared to be servants, or men for hire. While they worked, they also enjoyed the company and familiarity with the armed men and their wives. Ancalime found this to be rather cold and lonely work. S/he kept to herself to avoid small talk, while she tried to listen carefully to the accents these mountain folk used. As she got used to their strange dialect, she picked out that there were five distinct groups of Mountain folk, each with their own chieftain. But one, apparently the one whose group she was attached to, was in charge, and had the largest number of people.

Each group had with them a group of fighters, a group of thralls, and some women. Apparently when they travel in these groups, the wargs open a path for them, but are always watching for strays. The thralls talked of how last year, one fellow got left behind and the wargs ate him. They brought no children, and apparently had made this trek many times in the past two years. They were surprised that they had to go on one more trip this late in the season. As she watched, she noticed that the armed folk only did a little work, but the heavy work was left for the women, servants and thralls. Similarly, the thralls were mostly young, with several younger than Timothy/Ancalime. It was hard work, as this was the end of several days straight of hauling these rocks and their equipment. They were clearly used to this, but s/he was not.

The walking was hard work and her arms and legs ached after a few hours under the constant strain. To keep her mind off her discomfort, she let her mind process the various clues she gathered from their various conversations and complaints. They were clearly headed to the mountain with cartloads of ore from a mine somewhere. Her guess was that this group was making 6-8 leagues a day, which would put their mine, and possibly their homes something like 35-40 leagues to the north west, clearly on the other side of the next set of ridges to the west, and north of the land they'd travelled through from the bridge town.

Tim/Ancalime had a few interactions with the other thralls, but not much. She would just chime in once in a while that she was tired, using the similar phrases she heard from some of the others. While an occasional armed man walked near or behind them, they could also see pairs of wargs nearby as well, however, they continued unmolested to the mountain. They found a swale where there was water and plentiful firewood, not far from the entrance into the mountain. This clearly was a campsite that had been used before, and everyone except her seemed to know what to do and where to go. They lined up their carts, and set to work making camp.

Each of the five groups had their own separate camp, but none were far from each other, nor as a whole very far from the entrance to a cave where the tree line ended a bit further up the mountain. Immediately after setting up the camp, the women set to cooking, and the servants and thralls took ore and wood out of the swale and up to the mountain. As they approached, s/he could see and smell smoke from large charcoaling fires. Near a cave entrance, there were piles of rocks, where apparently ore came out to be picked at and sorted; there were only a few women working there. While she did not get a close look, it did not appear to be the same lead ore as they had hauled all those leagues from the north west, or where ever these mountain folk were from.

They sent Timothy/Ancalime up the hill to go work in the hole. She took a cart and shoveled wood in, and then took it uphill to a clearing, and then into the mouth of a cave. The cave was surprisingly warm, which was not normal. She'd been to Erebor, and expected the cave to become cooler, more uniform in temperature, but this grew warmer.

While she was unloading the wood, she heard someone deeper in the cave call out in pain, followed by mild obscenities. Ancalime recognized the words and accent to be from Dale. Unfortunately, it was not her brother's voice. This raised hope in her heart that this risk was worthwhile, that maybe it was one of the men who'd accompanied Aaron, or even Aaron himself. But she was obliged to leave, and there was no further opportunity to investigate further.

When she reached the outside, she stepped out into the cooler, evening air. She was very tired, and hungry. She followed the other thralls from her band, and went downhill, and into the swale where some tents were erected. They had food and water ready for the servants and thralls. It was a welcome relief, and the prospect of some rest. His/her kit consisted of a single blanket, and she quickly found a place to sleep near the other thralls. It comforted her to know that somewhere in the woods nearby, Meldiron would be watching. If she needed to escape, she knew where to go. She was so tired, that it did not take long before she was sound asleep.

Back at the cave, Eric tried making a small fire in the back. While Cassius was on watch outside, he worriedly greeted Calådhiel and Alina. He was less worried that Meldiron was not with them, as the elves often came back separately, but Alina was wearing Ancalime's armor, and carrying her clothes and weapons. He was more than a bit surprised that the third in the group was not Ancalime. His immediate response was, "We were worried about you."

Calådhiel started to explain in Elvish, but then shifted to Westron, whispering to him a quick summary of what they'd seen and where Ancalime and Meldiron were. She the stated how they switched Ancalime for this boy. Cassius thought that this was a pretty bold move, but he kept it to himself. As they headed deeper into the woods toward the horses and the cave he felt sorry for the lad they had in tow. "See if he can fit some of my clothes."

Calådhiel and Alina eventually worked their way through the trees to their cave, escorting a nervous, cold and half-naked Timothy. Miriel and Lona greeted them. Timothy was completely flustered in the presence of the two women, especially wearing only a cloak and a belt. Miriel, on Calådhiel's suggestion, went in and found some of Cassius's extra clothing. What she pulled out was a little short, and tight in places, but it was at least serviceable. From Timothy's perspective, they were the nicest clothes he'd ever worn. He could not understand why he was being treated well. He relaxed a little.

When Nergel joined them, Timothy was visibly frightened. Being in the presence of a large, strong, armed and armored man put him on edge. Nergel saw the boy in the ill-fitting clothing and went over to his bedroll, and gave him an old tunic and hose. They were equally ill-fitting, but at least they were not too small. The look on his face when Nergel presented him with clothes instead of a beating or worse was priceless. Alina fed him, but he was still very nervous. Outside the cave, Cassius and the ladies discussed the new plan and what they'd found out. Oddly enough, Eric was still sound asleep.

Calådhiel finally called Eric to wake up and put out the fire. He did wake up, but immediately fell asleep dreaming he was putting out the fire. His confederates watched him make strange noises, and wave his arms around as if he were putting out a fire while laying down. His antics were to the amusement of his confederates. The laughter, especially Nergel's woke him up, and the look on his face seeing the fire next to him still glowing was priceless. "I think you missed something." Nergel added. Eric looked around, realized he'd just made a fool of himself and grinned. "I guess so." After blinking a bit, he really did put out the fire. He armed himself, and then suddenly realized that there was a stranger among them. "Who are you?" When the boy didn't answer, Nergel spoke up for him. "I think his name is Timothy," The boy just nodded, still looking fearful.

After a while, Alina managed to coax Timothy's story from him. He explained that about six years ago he was taken from his parents farm. He talked about the mountain and the people who had hired them, and how in exchange for these rocks and wood, the clans were promised silver. And they had received some. Alina asked him if he remembered his language from his homeland. He replied "Nay, not really," then he sang a child's song that he could remember. Alina found the tune and sang with him.

While stumbling with his dialect, he was told by this incredibly tall and beautiful woman that he was no longer a slave, and that he was not expected to do anything for them. For his part, to be fed, warm, at rest, and clothed among such beautiful company seemed just too good to be true. They even gave him an extra portion of food, and some warm tea to drink. From his childhood that he could hardly remember, he still had a conception of heaven; this reminded him of it.

He was tired from the day's labor, and his head still hurt a bit from The Elf Lord who blindsided him. But he was warm, and for a change, well-fed. As he drifted off to sleep, surrounded by these friendly strangers, he wondered what the Morrow would bring.

The next morning dawned a bit warmer than the previous few days. It was still chilly. The watch shifted, and Timothy note that most of the elves, lords and ladies shifted in and out. They all remained armed, and kept a few of the horses saddled. They were not what he expected of rich southern folk. He helped a little, and his aid was not demanded, but rather welcomed. He helped the tall Alina prepare the morning meal, and helped a tiny Elven woman named Miriel to walk the horses. He wasn't sure of why they were waiting. They were clearly interested in what was happening in the mountain. He explained what little he knew, which was that they brought rock from their mountain, and helped break rocks and sort ore mined here. They also ran large charcoal fires, and they used the charcoal somewhere inside the mountain. But he did not know what they were making from the various ore. The Lady Alina was apparently seeking her brother, whom they thought to be inside the caves. But he knew nothing about the people inside, although they had been inside briefly a number of times. He felt badly that he could not be of more help.

Cassius came back from a trip searching around their part of the mountainside. He said he'd found a better cave, one that might be good for keeping the horses. They discussed shifting camp, as it would put them closer to the twin peaks, but not the road. Sometime after noon, Miriel was on watch. At a point inside bowshot, she saw some movement and froze. Lona spotted fur, and fired, immediately followed by Miriel. From a different watchpoint, the twins remained motionless only to leap after something moving near where the two arrows had gone. Gothweniel immediately followed the twins, with Lona and Miriel behind her. Lona was in the lead, but the first twin past her in the pursuit. They spotted a big warg running away. Lona and Gothweniel paused their strides to fire at it. Both shots hit, slowing the warg considerably. The twins pounced on their wounded adversary. With growls and snarls rending the air, Miriel sensed clearly that they were still being watched. Further away, Lona pointed out a scouting party of two wargs. Clearly it was time to move before another hunting pack found them. The twins put a quick end to their quarry, and they retreated.

Back at the cave Eric, Nergel, Calådhiel and Alina heard the snarling and immediately started packing the horses. Cassius suggested that they should shift to this new cave. "The cave I found this morning is reasonably defensible, with a high roof and from what I could explore, had plenty of room for the horses." Timothy was put up on a horse, with Calådhiel leading it. He noticed there was still an unused saddle as they rode out.

More than a few leagues away, Ancalime as the captured "Timothy's" replacement, got a morning meal, and still filthy from yesterday, was put back to work. As the weakest among the thralls, s/he was a target for derision and shoving. One of the leaders was particularly rude. S/he got into a few scuffles, but managed to hold her temper. That morning and noon, s/he was treated with little respect, and with a violence that she was unused to, even with lazy servants in Dale. In particular, one of the mountain folk chieftains was particularly demeaning to him/her. When s/he did not move quickly enough, he made it a point to strike him/her, humiliating Ancalime in front of many of his band because s/he paused to wipe her face. S/he struggled to maintain her temper; but she clearly recognized him as Kratel, the chieftain of her band. She wasn't certain, but she thought him to be the leader among the five chieftains - the one they had talked about as the head of this mining arrangement.

The day's work was very hard and dirty, hauling wood, rock, including cleaning out and restocking charcoal pits. Outside, women were busy with hammers breaking and sorting rock in the cool daylight. Later that day, when her work took her again inside the cave, s/he discovered a different voice from someone from Dale. Her work quickly took her out where she could not investigate any further. It was disappointing to be so close, and yet so far from what she was there to find out.

Farther west, well out of sight of the twin peaks, Cassius led the party for more than two hours along a rather circuitous route until they found the new cave. It was as Cassius had described: larger, significantly better for the horses. It had a clearing in front, so that the entrance was more defensible, and trees about that made it harder to find. They worked hard until evening to make their position more defensible, and hide the tracks into the cave. Gothweniel took the first turn on watch from top of the hill above the cave. From there, she could see where one of the scouts had been killed, further down the vale.

Not surprisingly, that afternoon, they saw a large group of wargs heading straight up the vale pausing near where the warg bodies were. Several pairs broke off from the group to search. Again, it was Lona who spotted them; she saw a scouting group heading south, and another pair heading closer to where they were now camped. It was no surprise when and the big group came later and followed the trail that they had taken.

But they were ready. Eric & Cassius had worked out several defense plans, and one such plan was specifically for a group advancing along the trail they'd taken. It would be their turn for an ambush. The four elves were armed and hidden up in the trees, with extra arrows and a clear line of fire in multiple directions. Nergel, Cassius and Eric readied themselves draw the wargs into the open by the cave entrance and then to melee. Alina and Timothy stayed with the horses, and were armed with Ancalime's armor and weapons between them. Alina had her bow, and Timothy in Ancalime's armor held her spear. They could only see out the entrance to the cave, and realized that if too many wargs made it inside, they would be in a desperate position. But anything approaching the cave would be under a hail of arrows, and have to get past the two knights and their big sergeant. This was the only flaw in their plan, if the wargs actually did not get distracted, but pressed their attack into the cave despite their casualties. Alina and Timothy could only barely defend themselves, and against a pressed attack, especially if outnumbered, they would have no chance.

Outside, the four Elven archers could clearly see their adversaries approaching; they took time to mark their targets; Calådhiel gave a brief call to give their companions in the cave a warning. As the wargs walked into the clearing in front of the cave, a flight of arrows from up in the trees sailed across the clearing and ripped into their ranks. As the big wargs turned toward the trees, two crossbows and Alina's and Eric's longbows put another flight into them. Several dropped; more were wounded. One made the mistake of turning towards the cave, only to drop dead with Cassius' crossbow bolt lodged in its eye. As they turned toward their first assailants, eight more were wounded from the archers in the trees, and more arrows, especially from Eric, exited the darkness

Within a minute, at least five of their number lay dead, ten wounded and no enemy was yet in sight. The surviving wargs quickly moved away from the cave, and paused long enough to dodge the next flights from the trees. Their leader turned to go up the hill to the south of the cave entrance. Then three men came charging out into the open. Taking up the challenge, the wargs turned and ran straight for them. This was exactly what they planned - to keep as many wargs in the field of fire for as long as possible. Again more arrows came from the trees, with Gothweniel's speed shooting exacted a high price from the wargs attempting to reach the armored knights.

Nergel thought more of who lay behind him, and threw away caution. Rather than using his shield to actively defend himself, he threw his energy into putting as many axe blows onto the creatures around him. He managed to stay on his feet, as more than one warg tried to bash him to the ground. The melee resulted in more wounded and dead wargs, as those that turned flank them found themselves in front of the cave with Alina firing, and the four archers above worked to make each arrow find another victim. Eric's sword ripped open the warg going for Nergel's legs, and promptly got bowled over by another. As he was going down, his sword caught it. In return it clawed at his armor, only to take an arrow from above. Nergel finished it off with a heavy axe blow. Cassius protected Nergel's back, slashing hard at each target. It was tough work with his back to Nergel and Eric.

But once Eric was back on his feet, Nergel kept moving into the wargs, giving them no time to regroup, forcing them to react; he knocked over a wounded warg and kept going after other targets, anything to put a warg inside his weapon's range. Cassius and Eric flanked him on both sides, stabbing and slashing. But it was hard work to stay up with him. While the wargs managed to get close, one latched onto Nergel's arm briefly. But flight after flight of arrows cut down more wargs with each wave. Bites and claws did damage, and Nergel was bleeding. But their shields, helms, armor and padding provided significant protection. Those wargs that paused to attack one of the men quickly become targets for the archers above. Dodging in close drew a flashing blade or a hard axe. The survivors realized the hopelessness of continued attacks, and with a gruff word of command fled. The men followed.

The surviving wargs got to the top of the hill only to find that they were challenged by two snarling yearlings. The twins had positioned themselves for just such a move. To the survivors of the killing field, retreating the way they'd come would have had them exposed longer to the deadly rain, so the hill was the fastest escape. Only the twins now had their opportunity to stop their foes, and keep them on the ridge where their Wolverines' claws could still reach them. It was a pleasing thought as they watched numbers of their enemies' approach.

It was at this moment that Gothweniel's bowstring broke; She had another, but her targets would be long gone by the time she would have her bow restrung. She hopped down the branches, and out of the tree. When she touched the ground, her sword and dagger flashed out and she ran towards the knights. The two knights were slower, following Nergel up the hill, while Calådhiel, Lona and Miriel continued to loose arrows at the big wargs. They still had too many targets.

The people on foot reached the top of the hill, where the twins were leaping about, going after the arrows sticking from many of their attackers, trying to keep their attackers distracted. Nergel reached the running battle at the top first, and connected hard with his axe. Instantly he became a target. A warg bit him on the shoulder, only to fall victim to Cassius's longsword. Gothweniel injured one more and before a warg bit her on the arm. Eric struck this warg just as Gothweniel buried her long dagger into it repeatedly. The warg finally fell off of Gothweniel's arm and died from its multiple wounds. An arrow flew right pass Cassius, toward the wargs at the top of the hill. More wargs continued dropping whenever another of the Elvish arrows found a target.

Seeing their enemies being slaughtered, the two small wargs stood panting, bleeding from multiple wounds. Nergel also managed to calm down amid the carnage. Gothweniel's armor was shredded in places, and she was in a lot of pain, but her arm would clearly heal. Dead wargs littered the ground, and Gothweniel called off the twins before they went to run down the wounded. Wounded, torn in many places, but immensely proud, they came back to nuzzle Gothweniel, and she had to stop them from trying to lick her. The evening hours were spent dressing wounds, and retrieving arrows from the dead, and putting the wounded out of their misery. Timothy kept count. For every arrow that had found a target, there were less than two that did not. And in less than ten minutes of fighting, the four women had fired off nearly 30 arrows each. And those three men, and one of the women had fought toe-to-toe among them. It was more skill and courage than he could fathom. Those wicked wargs paid a very high price for their attack. But he did not understand why the two small wargs fought with them, and often stayed with the red-haired Elven archer.

Later, after Timothy/Ancalime took his/her small evening meal, another thrall, a woman named 'Alice' walked up to her and said, "Walk wit' me." when they were clearly out of earshot of other people, she asked him/her, "Why are ye dressed as a lad?"

Ancalime was at a loss for words. She paused, trying to answer sounding more boyish. "Complicated, it is." She looked at the girl, "I nay want to be recognized."

"You see how we're treated." Then she added, "You've done a good job hiding. It was your voice – it's not changed. T'at gave me a clue." She introduced herself as Alice, explaining that she was from a northern province of Dale. She was captured a few years ago.

"I understand, but ye should stay with us women. For t'e most part, it is safer. T'e Shaman Heroesoth is safe, and won't harm ye. Most of t'e men won't either. But stay away from that Kratel. A lecherous man he is; and will strip you wit' his eyes. Or worse."

S/he was surprised at the vehemence in her own boyish voice. "I better stay away from him; after what he did today I'm liable to put a knife in him." The violence in her voice put her acquaintance aback. They chatted a bit more, and Ancalime ended with, I'll t'ink about what you said." Alice left with, "I won't tell anyone."

Despite her promise, the exchange with Alice signaled that it was time for Ancalime to put an end to her charade. She was exhausted, but she struggled to wait for real darkness to set in to make good her escape. Per the plan, Meldiron would be watching at a distance, and would come at night to check on her. She went out into the darkness of the trees that she thought Meldiron had pointed out, and proceeded to quietly pick her way down the slope. With a little good fortune, and a sharp ear on his part, Meldiron found her. He gave her some clean water and a bite of food and led her away from the mine.

They started the quiet trek away from the camp. After a short time, he realized that she was just too exhausted to keep any useful pace. He put her on his back, and began to quietly trot down the mountain. He wound up carrying her much of the way, which helped hide their trail. Eventually he stopped, and put her down. He let her sleep, hidden in some rocks and kept a quiet watch.

That evening, Calådhiel bandaged Gothweniel's arm. Nergel was injured as well and Alina and Lona dressed his wounds. Miriel, Cassius and Timothy saw to the horses. Nergel was really tired. What to do next was difficult, because they would not be able to have even one night here in safety. They fully expected the wargs to come at night, and with this many bodies about, it would not take long to find them. The prevailing wind was even now carrying the scent of fresh warg blood toward the twin peaks.

Everyone mounted. Realizing that Timothy was no rider, Timothy and Calådhiel rode on a horse together. Gothweniel and the twins kept the rear guard. As they rode away, they talked about going up the mountain, and how to reach or attack the twin peaks. Timothy explained what little he knew. Although his dialect was very difficult to understand for the elves, Alina translated it quickly and easily. He also pointed a few landmarks out. He was still a bit in awe of the battle, and particularly the aftermath that he'd witnessed that evening. While he'd seen that many live wargs before, he'd never ever seen that many dead ones. With a lot of motioning and repeats, Calådhiel explained to a curious Timothy about warg scout pairs and the organization of their hunting parties.

They asked him more questions about the rock and cart loads, which he answered as best he could. He repeated that he was just a thrall, captured eight years ago. He explained that he'd been here multiple times in the past two years, but he'd really never been past the first chamber in the cave, so he knew very little. He explained that mostly wood and food go up to the caves, and mostly silver and occasionally lead slag comes down. Cassius brought up another question about how many of the "mountain folk" there were around/in the mountain. The reply was that there were around 40 thralls and servants and probably the same number of fighting men of different status, plus women.

After dark, they set up another camp while Miriel and Lona kept a look out, especially for Meldiron and Ancalime. It was surprisingly nice outside. There were few clouds, and no rain. They camped in another wood, and although they turned in late, they were able to get some rest. Very early in the morning, Calådhiel went out to give the calls "where are you" to Meldiron. Unlike the previous morning, she got a reply.

Miriel, Calådhiel and Lona left the cover of the woods to meet Ancalime and Meldiron. They heard an owl call, very close by. "She's here." Meldiron whispered. They followed his voice. When they found him, he was carrying Ancalime, still sound asleep. Mirel and Calådhiel took her from him. She was so exhausted that even when they switched, she barely awoke. The light was still dim, so they could not tell how filthy she was with charcoal dust.

Not long after sunrise, Timothy saw four elves come back and they were carrying a tall thin person wearing _his_ clothes. The person woke up a bit, happy to be among these people. It took him a while, but he noticed that it isn't a _he_ , but rather a _she_ wearing his clothes. They lead her off, and she got dressed and was fed. When she came back, he was astonished at the change from someone quite like himself in filthy rags to an amazingly beautiful young woman wearing rich, if worn clothes. They addressed her as 'Ancalime'. She promptly explained in a tired voice what she had experienced with the Mountain folk. Most of what she said seemed familiar to him, as he'd been on these runs before. However, there was more to what she explained, and some of which was difficult for him to follow. He was a little surprised that Kratel had bothered to strike him/her, as he usually didn't usually care at all about what a thrall was doing.

Despite being desperately tired and chilled to the bone, Ancalime told everyone about the man she heard inside the cave who'd spoken in a real Dale accent. She had failed to discover what they were spending so much effort to make, but from what she did learn, she was hopeful that answers, if not their brothers were trapped in that mountain just a few leagues away. They just needed a way to get them out. This brought hope to all.

With some food and warm water in her, Alina wrapped her up in her cloak. She could sense that her friend was weak, and needed rest. Holding Ancalime, she sat with her as went back to sleep. While she slept, the others went about their business, but Alina could hear her talking strangely - muttering about being chased by a bunch of barbarians... about Meldiron ... about how much Alina wanted to find her brother ... how she was convinced that her brother was alive but she couldn't get closer. For that they would need a new plan.


	11. Chapter 11: The Gambit

Chapter 11: The Gambit

By mid-morning, Ancalime woke up for real, and shared the whole of her day and a half as a thrall with a bit more clarity and detail. It was a strange story, with numerous pauses for her to express her anger at how she was treated. She couldn't believe that she almost got into a fist fight just for wiping her face, and that not only had she been insulted, but one of the lead Chieftains - Kratel - actually struck her to assert his authority. Her temper still showed.

They began to realize the impact of what she'd seen. Putting the pieces together with Eric and Calådhiel, they came to understand that there was a major mining operation and whoever was working on the inside had no contact with the mountain folk on the outside. And some of those men trapped as slaves inside were clearly from Dale. With this understanding spoken plainly, it was clear to all that it had been a long and hard road that brought them here, but clearly their goal lay in reach. If they could just get past the wargs and the mountain folk. The discussions continued into the afternoon, but a new idea emerged with the consensus that it just might work.

Eric and Cassius listened to Meldiron's detailed description of the swale where the five groups of mountain folk were encamped. They started working out how they could get archers to cover from the heights, and charge in on horseback and break up the camp. This would force them to flee, and give them access to the mine; if the wargs did not intervene immediately.

Nergel looked at Eric and said "You are thinking too hard. We don't need them dead or gone, only out of the way." He suggested a gambit: to move in with awe and speed, get some good hostages, and when we have their attention, cut a deal. "We tell them, 'You get our people, we give you your people'. This would be simpler, and if all goes well, no one gets hurt." When he stopped, Cassius completed his thought. "Except maybe some more wargs, or mountain folk too stupid to fight rather than barter."

This immediately got support. Cassius and Eric, with help from Ancalime and Calådhiel worked out a new plan. The basic idea was to get the mountain folk to stand down, so they could go to the cave unmolested. They had the advantages of surprise, better archers, and armor. If they could nab one or more of their chieftains quickly, they could use him as a bargaining chip to let them get to the mountain, break in, and ride off with the prisoners inside the mine. They agreed that Kratel, who seemed to be their leader, would be the best target. Ancalime and Meldiron carefully explained the lay of the land. They decided that a dawn assault would be best.

Ancalime was still really angry - with score to settle with one of their chieftains who'd struck her without cause. On hearing bits of his description, Timothy explained that this was almost certainly Kratel, not the chieftain of his clan, but rather the chieftain who had convinced the other clans to take on this mining operation. He was the one leading this effort for the last season. Timothy explained this to the Alina and Ancalime, and with some translation and questions, it became clear that even among the clans, there were the haves and the have-nots. Eric took this as an opportunity for revising the plan: not just a gambit to move the clans out of the way, but rather to divide and conquer. Not only would they get Kratel, then they'd make an attempt to turn the others against him, and their union with the wargs. At worst they'd reinforce the value of him as a hostage; at best, they might wind up with allies in searching the mine.

This led to another conversation with Timothy; Ancalime offered to set him free, he replied that the mountain folk would probably beat severely if he ever went back to camp, even if they believed his story of being kidnapped. He thought quickly of the power and bravery he'd just witnessed, and chose to stay with them, on the promise that if they ever made it back to Dale, they would help him find his family and start a new life. This was quickly agreed. They give him some bits of armor, and assigned him a role to help Alina.

They also asked Alina their now-routine evening question: "What sense do you have of your brother?" This question was now easier to answer, as over the past weeks, Meldiron had been showing her how to meditate, and this was helpful. Originally, she thought that meditation would just make her be able to focus on what she was listening for, but it turned out to work differently. Putting her body at rest, and letting her thoughts stream past did not allow her to focus, but rather it allowed her to stay beyond herself, and listen in the silence. And occasionally the silence spoke; mostly the same cold, and fear, and weight of responsibility. Tonight this was no different. Separate from what she sensed of her brother, she felt trepidation but also a positive sense about the planned attack on the mountain folk. She had a strong sense of hope, but she could not shake that there was something dark and unseen about the day to come.

All but Eric and Meldiron were turning in. Ancalime summarized their plans, "Early on the morrow, we will advance into the swale to kidnap Kratel. This is what we've been preparing for since we left Meneldor with the H'Chyal'ch. This is our day; either we will all enter the caves and be in open war with the G'Hochx, or fleeing for our lives. Tomorrow we will find out what happened to our brothers. I really don't know how I will sleep, but I know I must."

But some planning was still needed, and Eric, Calådhiel and Meldiron remained awake, quietly discussing the details - How to get to the camp without being spotted; how to have an escape route, and retreat signals. And they took the first watch, as despite the slaughter of the large hunting pack yesterday, they expected wargs to be seeking them with a vengeance.

They left before dawn, with Gothweniel and Lona covering tracks to keep surprise spotting by wargs down to a minimum. A line of broken sod could be spotted from a long distance, and bring a scouting pair onto their track. They knew how they would split, with all of the Elves save Calådhiel up on the overwatch with Timothy, Alina and all but four of the horses.

Two groups were organized: one that would charge in on horseback and the other at an overwatch point where archers could see, and the twins could stay clear... They need to plan their entrance. Gothweniel, Miriel and Meldiron would be on overwatch. Timothy and Alina would be with the twins and their horses. They would find one of the overwatch points that Meldiron had identified. He had three decent points from which they could see and shoot at all of the five camps. Their instructions are clear; don't shoot anyone not dangerous; if they looked dangerous, don't wait. Drop them. If they could, try not to kill them. If anyone draws a bow, drop them.

Now in sight of the camps, Meldiron took Tim aside and he asked him to point out exactly which tent held which chieftain. In the predawn, Timothy pointed to a camp from above, "That is the camp I am supposed to be in. Kratel, his wife and servants are there." pointing to a larger tent in the middle of the largest of the five campsites. "Stay here, with Alina and the horses." Eric discussed the plan with Nergel and Cassius. Situated with open space around the tent, they could easily ride around both sides, drop the ropes, and position archers on opposite corners to keep the others from organizing. That would leave Ancalime to take him at spear point. Besides, in the dim light, she had the best knowledge of what he looked like. With the plan agreed, they set out to get to get the mounted party of four horses and five riders quietly to the edge of the swale. The overwatch would be able to see them clearly before they advanced, and be able to call a warning if trouble started before they arrived in position.

As the predawn lighted the sky yet further, some early movement began in the camp. The riders reached their starting position without alerting the camp. With a motion from Eric, they started at a walk four abreast.

The quiet of the camp was broken by a thunder of horses' hooves. Three heavily-armored knights, two with crossbows, and an Amazon wielding a spear with an archer mounted behind her charged the camp in the dim morning light. They charged past one, and into the middle of the largest camp. Halfway to the camp there is a cry and horn blew. Commotion and horns continued in each of the camps, as men scrambled for armor and to form protective circles.

Kratel, the chieftain of the 2nd group, briefly peered out of his tent, only to see Nergel in the lead, with three other horses bearing down on him. Nergel raced behind the tent, cutting the tent ropes, dropping the back of tent on top of the occupants. Eric took the other side, almost simultaneously dropping the front. Cassius and Ancalime made a quick dash, knocking camp equipment and stacks of arms over. Calådhiel deftly leaped off Ancalime's horse to get into the tent and stop the chieftain. He tried to slash at her, but the tent prevented it, and though standing, Eric stepped his horse on top of the tent and whacked the taller target with the broadside of his sword, stunning him. Eric cut open the tent, while Calådhiel disarmed him, pinning him to the side of the horse.

Another man emerged to bolt towards the other tents, and Ancalime on horseback, pivots her spear in her hand, and with both hands uses the blunt end as a quarterstaff. This was in fact Kratel, who tried to dodge the blow, saying something rude. She promptly glanced a blow off the side of his head; he crumpled. His wife pulled a dagger, moving in the open toward Ancalime, only to see her husband dropped by a girl. She turned to run toward the group from her camp that was now in the open space between the camps, forming a makeshift shield wall.

Calådhiel and Eric both called out, 'drop your weapons.' The woman ran up to the group and then stopped dead, as the shield wall in front of her didn't open. They were busy staring at their chieftain, laying at the mercy of the Valkyrie with the Spear. Two other persons caught under the tent got up and showed themselves unarmed. Ancalime, with her horse standing over the fallen Kratel, lets them flee unmolested from the tent. Unlike the woman, they entered the circle. Eric took this as a good sign.

Eric started by stating clearly and slowly to the nearby shield wall, "Put down your bows. There will be no killing. This man is our prisoner. He is guilty of offenses against our people." Calådhiel, pointed her bow menacingly at the shield wall, as did Cassius and Nergel. They all knew that at these ranges that few of their shields would stop the powerful bows. Their silence spoke volumes; Cassius started bargaining. He called out loudly, speaking slowly so his voice carried down the swale. The unseen archers on the hill could hear as well. They could also see the each of the camps had their own defensive circles formed.

"This man called Kratel offended this lady;" he pointed to Ancalime. "He is accused of being responsible for helping the wargs and their masters trap and kill numbers of our people, who are now prisoners inside this mountain." He paused to see their reaction. Clearly more than a few understood. "We will discuss ransom of him for our people inside the mountain. "

They could see discussions starting inside the different circles. The tones were different among the camps. Two groups seemed worried or hesitant. One seemed calm, more obviously with a watch-and-wait tenor. Two seemed hostile, nervous, the one nearest them, with the woman and Kratel outside their circle, and another larger group near the other end of the swale.

From one of the hesitant groups, a tall chieftain stepped forward and called out, "We'll vouch for him. We'll trade."

A chief from the larger circle stepped out, and looking at the chieftain who'd just spoken and hollered something insulting, and then all eyes turned to him. Everyone was staring at the largest group, the one most prepared to fight. Alina and Ancalime both knew what was being said. Ancalime, not wanting to let on that they understood, spoke out the Sindarin word, " _Ulwarth_ " meaning 'bad betrayer'. She was certain that Eric and Calådhiel would get the warning, and maybe Cassius. On the hill, Alina told the Elves, "He just called him a traitor for offering to trade."

Cassius called out to the man down the swale, "So you refuse to trade our people for your chieftain? You mean he's not worth a few mine slaves? We want only our prisoners; you can keep your mountain and your ore."

A clear voice from one of the other circles called out, "And us be left here for warg food, while ye ride away? No thank ye."

Eric motioned to Cassius. Cassius sensed the split among them, so in his clear, inviting voice called out, "Why are you helping these wargs?"

This caused a buzz, as in four of the circles, there were eyes turned. Cassius repeated, "Tell us why you are helping wargs!" He paused. "They are your enemies, not allies." Remembering What Ancalime shared, "They eat your stragglers. Tell us - why do you help them?"

The chieftains from the worried circles, stepped out toward the other chieftain. The tall one – the one Timothy had described to be Carritok stepped out too. They walked towards each other. The woman followed suit. When they were about 30 paces apart, the insulted one called out, "AYE. TELL US!"

The woman nearby now answered shrewdly. "Ye know t'e bargain... We bring ore, t'ey pay us in silver and lead... Come, let us discuss t'is and we consider their offer." The four advanced. The four Chieftains, now closer to each other, stopped and argued more, but from the distance they were at, they could only distinguish their tone.

At a motion from one chief, archers in the larger group stepped forward of their line and aimed to fire at the horsemen. As they drew their bows, the four Elves hidden in the trees above immediately let fly, raining shafts down on the assembled archers. With their targets only a step away from the edge of the nearby ring, Miriel wounded two, Lona wounded one and Gothweniel hit another. The lead archer dropped with Meldiron's first shaft in his throat. In two quick flights, there were immediately six men hit and several misses. One archer was missed, because as soon as the first three were hit, he dodged, leaving his bow on the ground with an arrow sailing through where he had just stood. It buried itself deeply into the shield of the man behind him, causing him to drop it. The sound rang like a bell through the swale, and the ring responded, as both the armed men as well as the thralls and women scattered for cover. They left three wounded and one dead on the ground, as well as their bows.

The woman was looking around, as was everyone else. The crossbows and Eric and Calådhiel's long bows still threatened them, but they could not see people from where the flights of arrows came from. The remaining shield walls stood their ground nervously. Eric retorted, "I said there would be no killing. If you attack us, you will be cut down. We want our ransom. Go get our people out, or we will."

Kratel, still at Ancalime's feet, started to wake up. Calådhiel spoke to Ancalime in Sindarin: "Look to him - he's awake." Ancalime glanced down to see Kratel start to reach for a weapon, and then pivoted the butt of her spear, and with a sweep, dealt a glancing blow along the other side of his head. Two inches closer, and he might have had his skull cracked open. Even so, they could hear the blow land, and the big man collapse.

The woman called out, "Why beat an unarmed man?"

Ancalime, mimicked their accent and retorted angrily, "T'e coward beats unarmed thralls. He deserves far worse." She paused. "Give us our people, and you can have him back."

The woman looked at the chieftains, and paused. It was clear to Eric that she probably knew a lot more than she was letting on. Ancalime dismounted to get a closer look at Kratel. For his part, the prisoner stirring on the ground beneath her, this time holding his head rather than attempting violence. She bent down and asked him in his dialect, "Where are our people? You know they are in there. Why are they keeping them hidden?"

The Chief of the larger, now scattered clan now spoke up, "Let us talk."

One of the other four chieftains, Carritok from Timothy's clan added, "Not her."

The woman stayed put, while the four men came together. They started talking a bit, keeping their voices down. Suddenly the chieftain of the scattered clan pulled a dagger and stabbed Carritok. At that moment, several things happened at once; the woman tried to approach the men, only to have Meldiron's arrow fly just in front of her with the word "Hold!" echoing from the heights. The taller of the two chieftains, grabbed the dagger-wielding chieftain to keep him from stabbing the Carritok again. Calådhiel swung up behind Eric as he spurred toward the foursome. He repeated Meldiron's statement, "Hold!"

While Sir Eric challenged them, Calådhiel put down her bow and attended to the wounded chieftain. Holding the assailant, the three argued that there were not prisoners in the mountain, but they all agreed to go up, and leave this exposed place. They also explained how they are very afraid of the wargs. Eric took the man from them, and motioned for Cassius to approach. The three called some of their people over to assist Calådhiel, and Eric treated them as on parley. They agreed to pack, and investigate the mountain, and keep watch for the wargs. It took a good half hour before the camps started breaking down, and they, with their two prisoners ascended to the mine entrance, escorted by armed men from the mountain clans.

Nergel, Eric, Ancalime, Calådhiel, Alina, Lona, Timothy, two chiefs and several of the better mountain soldiers, representing four of the five clans all agreed to enter the mine together. On first exploration, the outer chambers were exactly as they had experienced them, but as they tried to penetrate deeper down the narrow shaft, that impression changed,

They came across an invisible wall, that they eventually took axes to it and started cutting. With an iron bar, Nergel pried open a hole, and the smell, sounds and air were all different. Calådhiel wiggled through, and all tried the hole to sense the differences. A certain fear came upon the mountain folk present. The tall chieftain, who'd denied there were slaves here, clearly doubted his assertion. "This is not what Kratel and his wife told us."

Calådhiel worked from the inside, and they figured out how to make the hole big enough, and with some mud smeared on it, were finally able to see where the wall was so they could finish breaking through. They proceeded down the passage. After a short distance, there were two splits; one rough air passage heading up, and then a split as the cave/mine descended deeper into the mountain. The main passageway bore off to the left.

After they passed the air passage, they were disturbed by some noise behind them. Several big wargs had descended through the air passage, and immediately attacked. In the close cramped space, one man was killed and several wounded, but three wargs were killed. Some were heard scrambling back up the air passage, but they could not safely follow them. They left two men with spears to guard, and passed the message outside to be on guard.

They travelled down the passage way to the left, but stopped. They came to a barrier, now only bars, but even on close inspection with a torch they could not see it. All they found after a thorough search was a lock. Timothy eventually picked the lock. Down this passageway, they find spaces for people to sleep, some blankets and eating utensils. But no people.

They backtrack. They go down the last path, the three women all sensed fear - and a strange odor; and Calådhiel heard a quiet metallic 'click'. Ancalime calls for Sir Eric, and Nergel joins them. The three girls and Nergel go down. They run into another invisible wall. Here there really is some terrible smell from behind the wall. They find the hinges, and pop both. They lever the door up, and then Nergel pushes the door down. Fear and a chemical stink hits all, and Calådhiel who was near the front, gets hit the worst. She has a terrible time talking or breathing until they hand her through the hole in the wall and back to the outside. Meldiron puts her aside in a circle of protection and prays over her. Lona and her brother want go down the hole. Timothy and his Chief (bandaged), another man and Lona and the injured (now armed) Adan. The sense of fear disperses, and they seem to be feeling better, Meldiron says something has passed.

Miss Valkyrie heads further into the stink, which they realize is more like a light smoke, with the air clearer closer to the ground. They go further and find a regular door, which is locked from their side. Behind it is a workroom with a number of collapsed men. Almost as soon as the door is opened, Ancalime starts getting dizzy. Nergel grabs two prone figures and drags. Ancalime and Eric grab one between them and head for the air. More people come down to help and find five more people. When they come up Meldiron looks at everyone very closely. They find both Aldarion and Aaron. When Ancalime comes out she starts vomiting. Meldiron asks to move all the injured and give them food and water.

Lona, Adan and the released prisoners and most of the mountain people (except the two Chiefs) go outside. Timothy and Nergel search the damaged outer wall for a doorway. The interesting part is that it is very hard to hear the outside except through the hole in the invisible wall. Eric trips on something, that turns out to be a large, invisible metal strap and carries the strap back outside. This is awkward, and takes a while.

There they reunited Lona with her brother Adan; Adan was pretty badly shaken. The Chieftain #2 who insulted Eric immediately apologized. The six prisoners, five of whom could walk. They tell that they are sure that Aaron is alive; Aldarion they think is alive, but aren't sure. Aearion they said was long dead. Apparently tortured to death and fed to wargs. Calådhiel was very grieved.

Adan meets Lona...

Adan says, "there were two smelting places, one was to smelt slag to get mercury and Lead and down in the hole we were doing some kind of incantation smelting that they come out with invisible pieces." Of the seven that come up, only two are semi-conscious; Aaron and another workman. Two are dead. All are from Dale and the Greenwood. Aearion is not among them.

Once they are above ground, and into the light, they examine the seven men. Even though she is tremendously sick, Ancalime is exceptionally happy. When she realizes her brother is just unconscious, she hugs him with joy, as do Gothweniel and the somewhat recovered Calådhiel. Lona and Alina are besides themselves. Greeting of Aaron, Alina...

Aaron is somewhat conscious, somehow in better condition than the rest. Eric, himself trying not to wretch from the horrible smell, comments to Calådhiel, "Hope did not disappoint. Your hope was well founded."

She smiles, holding back a tear. "Yes. But my little brother wasn't there."

Ancalime recovers from illness; overjoyed with Aldarion alive.

Miriel and Gothweniel watch as a group of perhaps twenty wargs go up did something and then came back down. At this distance they couldn't tell exactly how many. Get a slight waft of a really bad smell. Start to head up the mountain to where the wargs were and the wargs are keeping a solid watch to where the entrance (Humans) are. More wargs than we thought. Do more calls to both elves and twins. They return to get closer to the entrance to the cave on the other side. This takes some time to do without being easily spotted.

With help from the thralls, Eric set up two traps with the invisible beams. The rest are forming barricades to defend themselves. They light fires as the sun begins to set behind the mountains. The red in the sky seems ominous. It would be a long night.


End file.
